“Let’s start digging,” he called to Janis. “Go about twelve feet down. This will be the entrance to the underground levels. Leave stairs so we can get in and out, no sense in digging straight down and being stuck.”
“Got it,” Janis replied. “Men! Let’s get to work!” he shouted to the villagers.
As the villagers cheered and began ripping up the courtyard, Khollo went back to reading, studying how to safely carve tunnels and support them, how to keep a hill or mountain from crumbling in on itself. As he read, he lost track of time, drifting out of the moment entirely until Sermas flopped down beside him.
“Well, the pit you wanted is almost done,” he said, grinning. “It’s not pretty, but it’s serviceable.”
Khollo looked up, stunned, and realized that the sixty men were indeed close to completing the first task. A pit some eight feet deep had been dug, a sloped pile of rubble in one corner providing access.
“I thought I told you to build stairs,” Khollo said, frowning.
“Too much dirt and loose stuff,” Sermas said, shrugging. “We can build stairs tomorrow, but that takes mortar and time so we thought something quick and simple would be best for today.”
“Fair enough,” Khollo agreed, continuing to survey the scene. There were women and children in the courtyard as well now, helping to haul away dirt and stone in baskets and carts so that the men could keep digging. This was something he hadn’t accounted for originally, but he was pleased that the other villagers had stepped in to help out. It spoke volumes about their character, and their ability to see through difficult work.
“What now, Khollo?” Janis asked, joining the small group at the steps. “We still have a few hours ‘til dark.”
“That was the easy part,” Khollo grunted, “The next part is more complicated. Who’s leading the diggers?”
“I appointed three foremen,” Janis replied. “They know their people better than I do.”
“Bring them here, please,” Khollo said, drawing his dagger and carving lines in the slushy mixture of trampled snow and mud in front of him. “I need to show them the next step.”
Janis moved off, shouting for the foremen while Khollo continued drawing lines in the snow. By the time the foremen arrived, he had drawn the entrance to the underground area, a triple arch at the base of the stairs, in the taller, narrower style he had seen in Tarrik’s book.
“Can you do this?” he asked the foremen as soon as they were gathered.
The nearest man, a muscular villager wearing nothing but a leather vest and heavy trousers, frowned at the drawing. “Perhaps,” he decided finally. “Will it stand up?”
“It should,” Khollo replied. He noticed Janis raise an eyebrow in disbelief.
“I’m not generally a fan of should,” one of the other foremen muttered. “I prefer will.”
“Then it will stand up,” Khollo replied, with as much conviction as he could muster. “We’ll be careful though, just in case. I leave it to you three to keep your men out of danger during this process.”
“Got to finish digging out four more feet first,” the third foreman grunted.
“Well, obviously, Hamon,” the first foreman growled. “We can’t carve the arches until we get to where we’re supposed to put them.”
“He was just making an observation, Sahn,” the second foreman grunted. “Give it a rest.”
“I am the senior of the three of us, Tilfir,” Sahn growled. “Don’t you dare correct me!”
Well, at least I know their names now, Khollo thought resignedly. “Look,” he said. “None of you have seniority anymore. You are equal. The moment you agreed to stay here at the West Bank, you put yourselves under the command of Janis Kurkan. He is your lord and you will obey him.”
“But you’re not Lord Kurkan,” Sahn pointed out. “So why do we listen to you?”
“Because I order you to,” Janis said from behind the three foremen.
The three villagers exchanged glances.
“Satisfied?” Khollo asked with a small smile.
“No problem, your lordship,” Hamon said cheerfully. “We’re on it.”
Tilfir nodded in agreement. Sahn still looked a bit surly, but he returned to work with no further argument.
“Well done,” Janis said quietly. “If I had been in your place, I might have whacked Sahn.”
“Would you care to explain why you selected those three, out of all of the villagers, to be foremen?” Khollo demanded.
“The others respect them,” Janis replied. “Hamon may lack intelligence. But he is loyal, and methodical. Tilfir is smart, tough, and speaks his mind. Sahn . . . well, he can be belligerent and difficult, but he was the only other one who could command even a few of his fellows without any problem.”
Khollo sighed as he watched dirt and rocks fly up out of the hole and onto the flat surface of the courtyard. “I hope you’re right about him,” he muttered.
“Me too,” Janis agreed. “Me too.”
In three hours, the future entrance to the underground was fully dug out. A temporary mound of stone served as a series of uneven steps for the moment. Later, there would be wide steps descending into the pit but that would have to be a project for the next day. Instead, work began on the arches, under the watchful eyes of Khollo, Janis, Hern, Sermas, and the three foremen.
With the aid of Janis and some agile young men from the village, Khollo had the arches outlined on the gray stone face that the diggers had exposed, giving them a target area to work on. He had wanted to draw the plan himself, but Janis had quickly squashed the idea.
“You will not lift a single stone, a pinch of dirt, or even pass a tool to someone,” he growled. “And set
