The Exact Number

Children of Atecamonyl, today you shall extend the very borders of your experience and knowledge, for you are to learn of another place. That was a joke, Yacotl. You can smile, boy. It’s geography, so you’ll be extending your…Never mind.

Today, I wish to talk of the infamous Wall of Hab.

I know you’ve never heard of it, Yacotl. That’s why I’m going to talk about it.

Before the two nations of Hab and Hara became as one, thus forming the Atecamonyl-damned empire that lies to the east of our own glorious Catec, the people of Hab built a wall running across the land side of their peninsula to keep the rest of the world out of their country.

The creation of the wall was to allow the militaristically minded people of Hab a chance to grow and develop in isolation from the rest of the continent until finally, centuries after its completion, the armies of Hab exploded from the gates of the wall and devoured the neighbouring nation of Hara in war and conquest.

But it is the wall itself I wish to talk to you about, Beloved of Atecamonyl. It is said by those who have seen it to be man’s most breathtaking achievement, and even more cunning in design than our own temple pyramids. It snakes across the lip of the peninsula from ocean to ocean over seven hundred miles.

That is a long way, actually, Yacotl. Since you can’t even count up to seven hundred, I urge you to reserve judgment.

At every mile, huge guard towers were built with room and beds enough for thirty soldiers.

No, well, I’m sure you’re quite right, Zatok. Hab-Haran soldiers with their huge, curved steel swords are much weaker than our own spear wielding warriors.

The guard towers are miniature castles, with portcullis gates that allow only two people through at a time. Each three hundred yards of the wall is a separate sector. Every sector is divided into two levels, so that if the wall is breached by enemy soldiers at any one place, it can be cut off from the rest and attacked from both sides by overhanging archer nests, gullies and tubes that direct boiling liquids and rocks onto the offending sector.

Yes, I thought you would like that bit, Yacotl.

At its most vulnerable places, the wall stands eight feet high and four feet thick. It is crenellated at the top – up and downy, boy – so that sentries can peer over it in safety.

Now, the cost of building the wall nearly broke Hab’s economy. The king had to divert money from the military and raise taxes, yet still the country buckled under the strain of the wall’s expense. And the time came to begin the construction of the wall’s final section – a two hundred mile stretch from Kura to the southern coast. No doubt the king was secretly pleased when that section’s chief architect died when the roof of his house fell down, for he had been responsible for much mishandling of the wall’s expenses.

Well, yes, Yacotl, he probably was stealing money, but there is no evidence.

And so, the king turned to the man who I have long believed I would have become firm friends with had I but lived six hundred years ago.

And in Hab. Thank you, Yacotl.

Kauji Anagi was long into his retirement when the king called upon him to plan for the building of the wall’s final section. He was a designer, architect, engineer and builder of great talent, but time had taken its toll. He was old, and blind now from two cataracts that had wrenched his vision from him. And not just blind, many of the king’s courtiers said, but senile as well.

The king had turned to Kauji because appointing him completed the overall symmetry of the history of the wall’s construction. And the people of Hab believed then, and still believe now, in the symmetry of life, from birth to death. Kauji, you see, Beloved Ones, had been the overseer of the most important – and what many believed to be the best built – section of the wall, which is the one that stretches from Hakuni to Asuki. Certain elements of that section could only have come from Kauji Anagi: The distinctive corners of the guard towers, the ramparts, the very stones themselves. The man was a genius. Apart from that, though, Kauji’s section had been the cheapest to build, for he was renowned for his talent with numerical figures.

Numbers, Yacotl.

The appointment proved to have an unforeseen benefit, for in his age and blindness, Kauji had to delegate responsibilities to younger men, who thus learned from one of the greatest minds of all time. 

Well, its kind of you to say so, Ciac, but really, I don’t think I am in possession of the greatest mind ever.

Less than a week after his appointment, Kauji met with the ten younger men who were to see to his instructions – and caused a storm!

No, he was not a shaman, Yacotl.

I meant that he caused an argument, for he calmly announced the exact number of square cut stones they would need to complete the wall. Why, it was ludicrous, the younger men yelled. It had never been attempted before! Anyway, the number he had calculated was far too low! Three hundred and fifty eight thousand, five hundred and seventy eight indeed!

Fearing that he was indeed suffering from dementia, and that the ravages afflicting his mind would, in turn, afflict their own careers, five of the younger men threatened to resign. Even the ones who did not resort to such blandishments argued fiercely with Kauji.

The old man did not respond to their comments or insults or threats, however. He only sat cross-legged on the woven matting and listened, until finally he began to rock on his haunches and laugh until the tears fell from his misty old eyes. It was an old man’s cackle, and it did little to ease the nerves of the others in the room.

“Very well,” Kauji wheezed when he had calmed down. “We will cut three hundred and fifty-eight thousand, five hundred and seventy-nine stones.”

The five men who had earlier threatened to resign did so there and then, but the rest stayed. Although no more was said on the matter, they resolved to just have more stones cut when the original order was used up.

The final section of the Wall of Hab was completed five years later, one year after Kauji Anagi’s death. It was by far the cheapest and the fastest section to be built.

Kauji’s body lies beneath a mausoleum that was erected exactly halfway between Kura and the coast. On top of his stone coffin, even today, is the three hundred and fifty-eight thousand, five hundred and seventy-ninth square cut stone.