The Twelve Towers - A Project Management Novel: Excerpt 1 - The Project Charter

Below is an excerpt from the Project Management novel Bruce Fieggen, QPharma’s V.P. of Project Management, is writing in his ‘spare time’. The book follows the Project Management Body of Knowledge Guide (PMBOK) but uses the format of a novel, and promises to be much more readable. The novel tells the story of a Gwilym, a Project Manager, charged with building twelve towers scattered throughout King Arthur’s Britain. Gwilym has three sons, the oldest of whom, Bleddyn, is also introduced in this excerpt.

Readers, think about the various projects you are tasked with and see how you can use the tools shown in these blog posts to assist you in ‘building your towers’.

This first excerpt shows the development of the first tool: The Project Charter.

After laying down the foundation logs, the men started laying down the side logs, marveling how each fit neatly into place on top of the one below and to right angles with it. With each additional log, the structure pulled tighter together.

Once the men had the hang of the design, Gwilym left Fred in charge and rode his horse painfully and slowly to the quarry to see about some new stone to dress the tower’s outside. Some stones had been salvaged from the old tower, but much more needed to be added. The quarry was around the other side of the hill but it still took Gwilym two hours of careful riding to reach there given his painful leg. On arriving he asked to sit down and put his leg up.

The quarryman was a short, barrel-chested, old man with sinewy arms and a grizzled beard. “I thought it about time you came to me for stone. How much will ye be wanting?”

“I need 100 tons for now, cut square about 2 feet to a side. When can you deliver that much?”

“I can start delivering 2 tons at a time as soon as I get gold for first shipment.”

Gwilym looked confused and said, “But Father Drew said that the quarry belongs to the church and it is his to use.”

“Aye, church owns it but tower is being built for defense of city. So money must come from king.”

“But Father Drew appointed me the Project Manager. He is the one in charge of the tower. And he is of the church.”

“Father Drew is priest of village church. Quarry belongs to whole church. And for that, you either pay me gold or get permission from bishop.”

“Start cutting now, quarryman. I’ll get the permission in time to take shipment.” Gwilym limped off to his horse and rode painfully back to the village.

                           ___________________________

“How goes the tower, Gwilym?” were Merlin’s first words.

Gwilym was intimidated by this old man of whom he had heard many stories. He looked like the wise old Druid he was reputed to be and his bright eyes sparkled under his bushy eyebrows. His long, grey hair made him seem much older than he was. His hands were strong and showing no signs of age and his well muscled arms handled the reins expertly.

“It goes well sir. The wooden structure is almost finished and we now need to face it with stone.” Gwilym remembered yesterday’s confrontation at the quarry and his mind switched to this other problem in his life. “But now the quarryman wants to charge us for stone, even though the quarry belongs to the church.”

“And what will you do to solve this?”

“I’ll get an order from the bishop to make him give up the stone.”

“And will that be your answer to the next problem that arises?”

“What’s that sir?”

“What will you do the next time you run into a problem like this with your tower?”

Gwilym felt like a fool. What was he missing? “I can’t guess all the problems that will arise; I just have to deal with them as they come up.”

“What will you do if the men decide to stop working? Or if the priest says he wants the tower to be taller, or if some knight asks that it be made round?”

“I need a letter that says what the tower should be and who is to pay for it. And I need it signed by someone whom everyone respects. Like the king! Even the bishop has to listen to the king. Is that what I need, Merlin?”

Merlin’s eyes twinkled but he said nothing. Gwilym looked at him curiously and said, “You know a lot more about building towers than you let on and I’m onto you. Can I ask you other questions later on when I hit other snags?”

“Did I answer your first one?”

“Not with an answer; that’s true, but you asked the right questions that let me come up with the right answer.”

                                      ____________________________

When Sir Kay escorted Gwilym and his son, Bleddyn, into the great hall...

...at Caerleon, the place was in an uproar. Hunting dogs ranged around, some were resting in a pile of rags near the fire, some snapping up food from the table, others fighting for dominance. King Arthur sat at the center of a group of unruly, feasting men, all of whom showed their devotion to the young king by their attentions. They shouted their hunting exploits over one another, wrestled for sport, yelled insults to each other and crowded as close to the king as they could.

One of them spotted Gwilym and yelled out, “Watch out fellows, here comes a Saxon giant!” The rest looked Gwilym’s way and they all seemed compelled to make sport of him.

“Where did you get your leg wound, Saxon, did I leave one of you alive in my wake?”

“Have you come to beg peace of us at last, Saxon king?”

The entire company burst into laughter at this last jest. Sir Kay walked Gwilym and Bleddyn close to the king’s side. The men quieted one by one with Gwilym’s approach until Arthur stopped his conversation with Launcelot and looked up expectantly.

“How came you by that wound, Saxon?” Launcelot inquired?

“I’m no Saxon warrior, Sir Launcelot.” replied Gwilym. “I am in charge of rebuilding the battle tower at Huish and come to ask help of the king.”

“Ask away” said the king. Gwilym was shocked at the king’s youth. He was just starting his first beard and his skin had the rosy hue of a boy. Yet he appeared comfortable in his role and wasn’t constantly looking for the approval of his elders in the way of other young leaders Gwilym had encountered before.

“My lord,” said Gwilym, relating his much-practiced speech. “The battle-tower at Huish is an essential part of your country’s defenses as it watches one of the major invasion routes of the Saxons. It provides early warning of their approach and serves also as a signal tower to the rest of England. The completion of this tower cannot be delayed.”

“And yet is has been delayed, some say deliberately!” interrupted one of the knights. “The old master builder has informed us that someone deliberately sabotaged the tower, causing it to collapse and getting himself appointed to the rebuilding. What say you to this charge?”

“I say that this Tarrant says many things when witnesses are not around and little when there are people to dispute him. Think you Father Drew a fool that he fire Tarrant and put me in his place? If you wish to see why his tower fell and my design will not, my 8-year old son will demonstrate with two models while I continue.” This drew the eyes of the curious knights as Bleddyn soaked the small sticks in water and began assembling the two towers, explaining the differences as he went.

“Do you agree, my lord, that this tower cannot be delayed?” asked Gwilym. He received King Arthur’s assent with a firm nod of the head.

“And do you agree that there are many things that could delay its construction: supplies of logs, stone, men and masons?” Once again he received a nod.

“And if my lord were with me at all times when I struggled to obtain these items and continue with the building, no delays would ever appear due to your presence?”

At this, Arthur looked disturbed and argued, “I’ve no plans to stay by your side during a tower construction, my good man. While it is important, there are many other things I need to do during this time.”

“Quite true my lord. But what if I carried with me a royal charter, spelling out what I was charged with building, how much wood, stone and skilled men I needed, where I was to obtain these, how much I were to pay for these, where the tower should stand and how high? What if this charter could say your words for you, while you continued with your other leadership duties in peace?”

“I would ask to see this charter”

Gwilym pulled the scroll from his bag and unrolled it in front of the king. Arthur, Launcelot, Kay and a couple of the other knights read it with interest. The others feigned indifference, probably to disguise their illiteracy, and paid closer attention to the models being built by Bleddyn.

“You would like me to affix my signature to this, ahh…Gwilym?” said King Arthur, scanning the charter again for his name.

“Plus the royal seal in the space at the bottom if you would, my lord. I want it to be an impressive document, even for those who cannot read it.”

“What say you, Launcelot?” he asked of the handsome knight to his right who was studying Gwilym with interest.

Launcelot paused and looked deep into Gwilym’s eyes. Gwilym felt uncomfortable but met his gaze. “And what does Merlin say of this charter?”

“It was Merlin’s idea”

“Merlin never tells anyone what to do. What do you mean it was his idea?”

“Merlin asked me questions that made me think of this solution.”

“Ha!” Launcelot barked out a quick laugh. “That’s Merlin alright.” He turned to King Arthur, “I think you should sign this charter and watch this Saxon to see how well it works. My kinsman has good ideas, even if he never says them out loud.”

King Arthur called for quill, ink and wax and was pleased to see that Kay had them all ready. He signed the charter with a flourish, attached a red ribbon to the bottom with some drips of red wax, then pressed his ring into the cooling wax to leave an imprint of the dragon seal. He handed this back to Gwilym and asked to see the models.

Bleddyn stepped forward and stammered out a description of the two designs. Arthur paid close attention and played with both models and set them carefully by the fire to dry. Bleddyn blushed happily from the attention. Arthur placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “May I keep these fine models, son?” Bleddyn was torn inside and looked aghast at his father.

Gwilym nodded to his son and told him he’d build him another set. Bleddyn said, “Yes, my king. It would be my pleasure to give them to you. Just soak them in water for 10 minutes to take them apart.”

King Arthur stood, gravely shook Bleddyn’s hand, then Gwilym’s and told them he would be keeping a close eye on this tower and on them. “And there is no need to worry about Tarrant. I didn’t trust those beady eyes when he came here. You, I trust.”

                                                 ____________________________

They arose early again and rode as fast as Gwilym was able to the quarry near Huish, and found the quarryman hard at work in the pit. Gwilym hailed him and the man worked his way back up to the road.

“I have a royal charter signed by the High King that authorizes me to use your stone to build the tower.” Gwilym carefully unrolled the charter. He knew instinctively that the man was illiterate but, like most of his kind, held words in awe akin to magic.

“Where says it how much stone you may take?” he inquired, his eyes, scanning the document and lingering long on the seal and red ribbon.

Gwilym showed the man the passage about the stone and circled the amount with his fingers, knowing that the man knew his numbers. “I see you’ve been careful to cut the stone, knowing that this misunderstanding would be resolved soon. I commend you for your foresight, brother.”

The quarryman swelled with pride, forgetting that he had been ordered to cut the stone by Gwilym days ago.

Stay tuned for the next installment from this novel coming November 15th!