Wars, Timmy had explained, were rarely won through a single bold move. More often than not, conflicts were settled by steadily acquiring advantages until the opponent was put into an unwinnable position. Better supplies, better training, better equipment, better transport, better intelligence networks, better troops – build enough advantages in these areas and victory would become a formality instead of a desperate gamble. Gerald had taken the lesson to heart because although he was not a powerful warrior or a terrifying mage, he was more than capable of working hard. He’d even repeated Timmy’s advice to the cadre of dwarves the king had assigned to help him fight through the swathes of paperwork.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Gerald stretched. The book before him was supposed to detail the dwarves’ stores of grain and other essential foodstuffs, but it hadn’t been updated in years. Instead, he’d been forced to seek out those personally responsible for handling the dwarves’ food supply. The picture they painted was grim. The loss of aboveground farming was not something even their finest efforts could completely offset, and the growing cost of importing food to make up the difference had hamstrung their economy. Worse, there were suggestions that at least some of the farming caverns had begun to reach their limits. Pushing them any harder could potentially result in the loss of entire harvests. At the very least, removing the goblins would allow them to resume aboveground farming, which would take a lot of the pressure off the dwarves. “How are things going with your project?”
Timmy and Katie shared a worryingly bright smile.
“It’s going well. We had to acquire a few live goblins for testing but it looks good. We should be ready to leave in a few days.” Timmy sat down and ran one hand through his hair. Like Katie, he wore a special suit and mask while working on their project, which only made Gerald more certain that the less he knew about it, the better he’d be able to sleep at night. For instance, why did they need live goblins? “What did you want to talk about?”
Gerald grimaced and fiddled with the book. He would have loved to have some more of the soothing tea Old Man favoured, but he needed to boil some more water first. “It’s about the dwarves. I keep hoping I’m wrong, but I’ve been combing through the records and speaking with their experts. It… it doesn’t look good.”
“Ah, right.” Timmy shrugged. “You’ve noticed it too. I was sure you would once you started looking. You’re a great bureaucrat, so there’s no way you’d miss it. They’re basically doomed, aren’t they?”
Katie gasped. “What?”
Gerald nodded sadly. “Katie, they can’t grow enough food to feed themselves, so they have to import a lot. Everton does it’s best to help, but the coming war has led to stockpiling and rising prices. Even if it hadn’t, the dwarves have been pushing their underground farms harder and harder to make ends meet. Productivity has increased, but it has come at a cost.”
“Although over-farming can produce large increases in productivity in the short term, in the long term it generally has the opposite effect.” The necromancer glanced at some of the papers and books scattered across Gerald’s desk. “I’m assuming you found some of the records from other cities.”
Gerald clutched at one of the old, battered ledgers. “I did. There are hints of it happening before, but, well, the goblins killed everybody before it could become a full-blown catastrophe. But based on what I’ve seen in the other records, I’d say the dwarves have a century at most before this city – and most of their others – are facing massively decreased yields from their underground farming.”
“Then what do we do?” Katie slumped into a chair. “They’re good people. We can’t just let them die.”
“Then we have to win. Once the goblins are gone, they can start farming aboveground again, which will let them ease up on things down here. It might take a few decades for the aboveground production to really get going, but the timeline works. They should even be able to do better than in the past since they can apply all the lessons they’ve learned to the new farms they set up. What else have you been working on, Gerald?”
“Transport routes,” Gerald replied. He pulled out a map. It was a rough copy, one he’d made with the help of the rats. He’d wait until things had been finalised before making a better one. “Travel through the mountains is tricky. There are lots of monsters, not to mention the goblins. However, the dwarves are good engineers. If we could deal with the monsters and the goblins, they could construct better roads or even build tunnels to speed the journey along.” He ran his finger along the map. “I was thinking of starting off with something like this with some other roads here, here, and here.”
“Let me have a closer look.” Timmy peered at the map. “That’s not a bad way to start.” He pointed at a few spots on the map. “But I’d think about shifting some of the routes through these areas. The weather tends to be milder there during winter, which means the passes should stay open most of the time. We’ll have to consult with the dwarves, but it definitely looks doable. If we can deal with the goblins, we should be able to wipe out the monsters out too.” He grinned at Katie. “And if we happen to keep the corpses…”
The girl giggled. “It would be a shame to waste the corpses, master. We might as well make use of them.”
Gerald shivered at the mention of going after the monsters. He did not like being anywhere near monsters. Hopefully, he’d only have to turn up to help with transporting the corpses. The less time he spent around living monsters, the better. “A lot of the routes I picked were based on old roads and paths the dwarves used before the goblins invaded.”
“If we’re lucky, some of the roads might still be intact, albeit in need of repair.” Timmy patted Gerald on the back. “You’ve been working hard, Gerald. Have you had a break at all today?”
The bureaucrat smiled. “I have. With all of the excitement we’ve been going through recently, going through paperwork feels like a holiday. The dwarves have also come up with some great innovations. They have this instrument that holds ink and then dispenses it as you write. There are still has some kinks to work out, but it’s better than a quill although not as good as a magical writing instrument.” It went unspoken that Gerald had several such instruments at his disposal. Every good bureaucrat did. “However, it is wholly mechanical, which is exciting in and of itself.”
“A mechanical writing instrument that can hold its own ink?” Timmy rubbed his chin. He had chosen not to shave since Councillor Winters had informed them of their mission to aid the dwarves. In dwarf culture, men were expected to grow beards, and being clean-shaven was generally considered odd. “We should invest in it if we can. You never know. If they can work out all of the kinks, I can see it being very useful. Magical writing instruments are great, but they can be expensive to make and maintain. An entirely mechanical writing instrument should get cheaper and easier to make over time.”
“They also have an incredible assortment of traps to deal with mice and other vermin. Some of them are truly ingenious.” Gerald chuckled as he recalled the reactions of some of the ninja rats. “Although I must say the ninja rats were not impressed.”
“I doubt the ninja rats have to worry about regular mousetraps. I’d be more worried about them improvising weaponry out of the traps,” Timmy said. “How about another break? Since we’re here, we might as well take a trip into the mines. Have you ever been into a dwarf mine before, Gerald?”
“Yes.” Gerald squirmed. “But I try to stay out of mines.” A litany of statistics ran through his mind. There were so many horrible ways for people to get killed in mines. They could get crushed in a cave in, poisoned by toxic gas, run over by mine carts, attacked by monsters – the list was endless. He’d only been into a mine once before, and he wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.
“It’s quite a sight. You should come too, Katie.”
“It’s not going to be dangerous, is it?” Gerald asked. He liked his makeshift office. It was a tad messy, but it was also very safe. “I had planned on av
oiding danger as much as I can given the circumstances.” If they were going to go after another horde of goblins, he wanted to avoid any unnecessary danger. He’d never had the best luck, and his recent brushes with death had left him wondering when his meagre luck would run out.
“Gerald,” Timmy said as he threw one arm over his shoulder. “You should know by now that danger is my middle name.”
“…” Gerald looked at Katie. “I thought it was Walter.”
“It is.” Katie rolled her eyes. “He’s trying to sound impressive.”
“Did it work?” Timmy asked. He struck a pose, and Katie cringed. It must have been one of the poses she practiced when she thought nobody was looking. However, Timmy must have caught her practicing in front of a mirror. And unlike Gerald, Timmy wasn’t the least bit worried about her wrath.
“Uh…” Gerald winced. “Maybe?”
“If you have to ask if it worked, master, then it didn’t work.” Katie prodded him with her shadows. “And you shouldn’t pose like that. It makes you look weird.”
Timmy smirked. “Oh? It’s not like I came up with the pose myself. In fact –”
“Never mind!” Katie blurted. She glared at Timmy, and on her shoulder, Rembrandt glared too. Despite his small size, Rembrandt had a terrifying glare. Gerald wasn’t even the one being glared at, and he was terrified. Timmy, however, simply ruffled Katie’s hair and dodged the storm of shadows she hurled his way.
“Come on,” Timmy said. “Let’s go. That means you too, Gerald.”
“I…” Gerald sighed. “Okay. But we’ll be safe, right?”
“Probably.”
“Probably?” Gerald murmured as he trudged after Timmy and Katie. “I was hoping he’d say definitely.”
Despite his misgivings, Gerald was relieved to find they would not be going on their tour of the mines alone. The rest of the group was there too, along with the king. That was a good sign, right? It wasn’t like the dwarves would expose their king to unnecessary danger – or maybe they would. The king had fought on the frontlines of the battle, after all.
“When I heard you wished to visit the mines,” King Barin said. “I thought I would show you them myself. There are few who know them better than me, and they are a place of pride for my people.” He gestured for them to follow him, and he led them to a large hall with several sets of tracks in the ground with platforms alongside them.
“Mining carts,” the king explained. “Ours are somewhat larger than those you are used to – and much more sophisticated – but I’m sure you are familiar with the idea.”
Gerald nodded. “Mining carts are used to help transport people and objects from one place to another swiftly and efficiently although they do vary from place to place. In some places, the mining carts are operated by hand whilst in others they are operated by magic. There are also systems that rely on mechanical innovations or which combine both magic and artifice.” He noticed the looks of surprise from the others and shrugged. “I once had to take a thorough record of the output of a mine. I only went in once, but I did ride in a mining cart. It was an… interesting experience.”
And it had only strengthened his belief that the horrific statistics related to mines were firmly rooted in facts. He had feared for his life on at least a dozen occasions, much to the amusement of the miners who had been well used to the insanity of swift mine cart travel along the winding, often steep, tracks. It was a miracle they hadn’t fallen off the tracks although he was sure they’d come close several times. Being told to lean one way to help keep the mine cart on course had not been a good sign.
“Yes, I imagine it would be.” The king smirked, pride clear on his features. “But we dwarves are not ones to rest on our laurels. We are people of relentless progress.” He whistled sharply and pointed. “Behold, the latest in mine cart technology!”
What emerged from the tunnel at the far end of the hall looked rather like a set of large mining carts with roofs that were attached end to end. Gerald gasped. It was a train of heavily modified mining carts that were designed to carry people in greater numbers and in greater comfort. As the train of mining carts pulled up to the platform and stopped, Gerald marvelled again. There was proper seating inside with ample space for the passengers.
“This is incredible.”
“Aye. We use it to transport miners around the mines. We have separate ones – larger and built differently – to transport the ores and gems we dig up.” The king chuckled. “My brother – the one you must secure – might be an idiot most of the time, but he is absolutely brilliant when he can be bothered building something other than those golems of his. He designed this train. It runs on a combination of magic and artifice, and it can comfortably carry more than three hundred dwarves. There are regular stops throughout the mines for people to alight and board at, and it has cut travel times down to a fraction of what they were. For this alone, my brother won great honour and praise, which he promptly squandered by making a giant golem that almost collapsed a section of the mine when it went berserk.”
Gerald looked about furtively. “I don’t suppose that golem is still down there, is it?”
“No.” The king shook his head. “It took us two days to bring it down, but we did – piece by damn piece. That was when he ran off to your Council with an offer to make golems for them. And, well, I’m told you know exactly how that turned out.”
“”Oh, yes,” Timmy said. “We were the ones who dealt with those golems.”
“There were a lot of golems,” Katie added. “And one of them was huge. Really huge.”
“My brother might be a genius,” the king drawled. “But he is also an idiot. Still, he is my brother, and I do want what is best for him. With the right guidance, I think he could truly change the world for the better. Without the right guidance, I give it a decade at the most before one of his own golems kills him.” The king shook his head and sighed. “But enough about my brother. Please, step aboard.”
Gerald climbed aboard the nearest mining cart and sat down next to Timmy and Katie. Unlike a normal mining cart, there were doors built into the side that made it a lot easier to enter and exit. Despite his lanky frame, there was enough space between the seats for Gerald to sit comfortably. For dwarves, who were much shorter, it must feel luxurious. However, looking decidedly less comfortable was Chomp. The massive dog had somehow managed to cram himself onto the train although a whole row of seats had to be folded up to accommodate him. Even so, he had a big smile on his face. Chomp clearly enjoyed being underground, and his tail wagged happily at the prospect of entering the mines. Spot had opted to crawl into his mother’s lap, so he could watch everything as they passed by.
“We shall take a tour of the mines,” the king announced. “If you have any questions, then please ask.” He gestured at the dwarf who sat at the very front of the train of mining carts next to an assortment of switches, levers, and dials. The dwarf raised a whistle to his lips, blew it sharply three times, and then the train lurched into motion.
The train gave a low rumble and began to set off down the tunnel. For a few moments, there was only the tunnel, its smooth walls lit by lanterns and crystals set into recesses cut into the stone. But then the tunnel gave way to open space, and they were suddenly high above a vast, seemingly endless chasm atop a stone bridge.
“Behold!” The king was smiling from ear to ear. “The mines of Cavernholme.”
Gerald gazed out of the mining cart in awe. The bridge they were on afforded them a spectacular view of the mines below. The chasm descended thousands of feet into the earth, and all along its walls were lights that showed countless dwarves hard at work. Some clung to the wall using ropes, others were working on ledges, and still others were delving in tunnels. Elsewhere, more tracks led deeper into the mines, and far below them, marking the bottom of the chasm was a river of lava. No wonder it was so warm. Spot’s eyes gleamed, and the dragon uncoiled from his mother’s lap to peer down at the fiery river below them.
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“Long ago, the fathers of my people delved into the mountain in search of gold, iron, and copper. From those central veins, filled with riches, they expanded, finding gemstones and other metals. As we grew ever more skilled, we delved deeper and expanded our reach.” The king chuckled. “There are now fifteen main stations where this train stops, each of which leads to a separate vein which is home to further stations. At any time there are more than two thousand dwarves hard at work here, mining the riches of the mountain. Centuries after we first began, the mountain continues to offer up a rich bounty. We mine more than gold, iron, and copper here. There is silver, platinum, flow-steel, diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and all other manner of riches. Truly, our ancestors were wise to make this place our home, and we will fight to the last dwarf to keep it.”
“How do you keep this place from collapsing?” Katie asked. Gerald had been into some of the caverns beneath the castle. They were supported by towering pillars of rock and other, less easily identified, materials, some of which straddled the line between animate and inanimate.
“A fine question,” the king said. “We are expert engineers, and we have learned from our mistakes. Tunnels are not only regularly reinforced with wood and other materials but also magic, including runes and seals.” He looked at Timmy. “Had you been born a dwarf, you would likely have been made an overseer of the mines, for earth magic is of great value to our people.”
Gerald’s brows furrowed. Timmy had not used his earth magic much at all. How had the king known? Perhaps Timmy had told him about it. It would certainly be another thing they could leverage in their favour. Added to his expertise in runes and seals, Timmy would undoubtedly be able to help the dwarves.
“I can feel some of the things in this mine with my magic,” Timmy admitted. “You are a wealthy man, Your Majesty.”
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