“Ah,” Sermas said, holding up a finger. “That’s the problem. We don’t have someone who knows what they’re doing.”
“I’m hoping Tarrik will have some thoughts,” Khollo replied, glaring at the younger cadet. “As a smith, he must have some idea of how mines are built and supported. Those provide the metal and ores for his work after all.”
“Maybe,” Hern said doubtfully. “But what if he doesn’t?”
“Then we’ll find another way,” Khollo said grimly, getting to his feet. “But right now, we need to get the villagers organized and get started. Time is short.”
He led his two friends from the council room, descending the stairs carefully, wincing with each step as the pain in his right side flared. Khollo gritted his teeth against the pain and pressed a hand against his side as he limped onward, trying to move as cautiously as possible. Hern and Sermas followed slowly in his wake, watching but saying nothing. For that, Khollo was grateful.
When they finally reached the main hall, Khollo sped up a bit, moving more easily across the level floor, and marched right up to the outer doors. He started to shove the heavy portal open, but Sermas and Hern beat him to it.
“You’re not up to that yet,” Hern grunted as he nudged Khollo out of the way. “You’re not to lift, shove, pull, carry, heave, none of it.”
Khollo nodded wordlessly and stepped through the open door and onto the front steps of the keep. There, he stopped short, stunned by the sight that met his eyes.
Hundreds of people were crammed into the courtyard, nearly spilling out of the gate. Mostly men, with a good scattering of women and children. Khollo tried to estimate exactly how many there were, then gave up, realizing that it was an impossible task while people were milling about. Quickly, he led Sermas and Hern to the top of the front steps, where Janis was talking with an exceptionally old man leaning heavily on a staff.
“We have the tools,” Janis was saying as Khollo joined him. “But we need men to wield them. One of my advisors has a plan, what we need to do – ” He broke off when he saw Khollo. “And here he is. Headman Canik, meet Lieutenant Khollo.”
“It is an honor,” the headman said, bowing stiffly. “We are most thankful for your offer of shelter and protection. As headman, I speak for my people. We will join you. There is no better option available to us.”
“You are most welcome,” Khollo replied, scanning the sea of people. “Headman Canik, our first priority is shelter for your people. There are caves in the hills that will do temporarily, but we’ll need your help to build something more suitable.”
“You will have it,” the headman replied. “Just tell us what to do.”
Khollo nodded, thinking quickly. “Split your people up between the caves in the base of this hill for now. Then send every able-bodied man you have to collect tools from master smith Tarrik. Have most of them begin expanding the caves, carefully, but keep sixty of your men here, in the courtyard. We’ll start digging to create some additional shelters up here.”
“What is the end goal?” the headman asked curiously. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course. The men will work better if they know to what purpose, and they may be able to provide ideas as well as muscle that way.”
The young advisor shrugged, recognizing that this was a fair question. “Eventually, I’m hoping to hollow out this whole hill and build an underground city, with some farmland enclosed by a secondary wall to the north. With the strength of the villages, we will have many warriors, enough to man the battlements many times over, since so little of the fortress will actually be exposed to an attack.”
“A clever strategy,” the headman mused, “But a difficult one to implement.”
“It’s our best shot,” Khollo told him. “Are you with us?”
“Of course.”
“Then let’s get started,” Khollo replied. “Janis, can you help them get settled? I need to speak to Tarrik.”
“Consider it done,” the lord of the West Bank said easily. “Hern, Sermas, with me. Headman Canik, if you’ll gather your people, we’ll help you get them to the caves Khollo mentioned.”
The others moved quickly down the steps and into the milling throng. Khollo meanwhile descended at a more sedate pace and limped towards the smithy. As Janis and the others began rounding up the villagers and giving them instructions, Khollo ducked into the warm refuge of the smiths, looking around for Tarrik.
The master smith was sitting by the forge, poking at the fire within. He looked up as Khollo approached, smiling.
“So, we’re taking in the villages now?” he asked.
Khollo nodded. “Yes. But those people will need shelter. It’s dead of winter after all.”
Tarrik nodded in agreement. “Right you are. You have a plan, right? Janis said you were working on one.”
“Yes,” Khollo confirmed. “But it will take tools, time, and skill. We’re going to turn this fortress into an underground city, starting with the caves.”
Tarrik blinked in surprise. “Explain,” he said slowly.
So Khollo told the smith his plan, outlining his thought process and what needed to be done, the advantages of his idea and the problems with other options he had considered. The smith was silent throughout, watching Khollo steadily.
“And you know how to cut through stone safely, do you?” he asked finally.
Khollo winced, then shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he admitted. “I was hoping you might have some ideas on that.”
Tarrik nodded. “I see. Well, I’m not sure why you came to me, I’m just a smith.”
“You use techniques of the ancients in your craft,”
