More Tales From the Guilds Ch. 16

Blodwen Rhysdottir, Low Queen of the Dwarfs, addressed her advisory council of senior Dezka-k'niks, the heads of all the mines in Schmaltzberg-Under-Bonk. "Look you, I'm sure you've all heard that the golem Schelger has found another Axel and that Lord Rodley of Quirm, Duke of Quirm, has asked to buy it. I'm also sure, see, that there has been a lot of argument about this. I know this because we're all Dwarfs and gossip is our favorite sport and fractious is what we are. I've decided to sell it to him (for a very high price!) and want you to know the reasons."

Muttering began among the most conservative members of the council. As far as they were concerned, Axels were the rightful property of Dwarfs and were supposed to be used solely for powering mines and Dwarfish cities. That the (mostly) human city of Ankh-Morpork had one and was using it to power the Undertaking, a subway beneath the city for freight handling, was greatly resented.

"Quirm's most important exports are its famed wines, its cheeses and its seafood. These all need to be kept cool before being loaded in to cold cars on the railway and shipped around the Disc. The problem, see, is that when the outlying estates, vineyards and dairies want to get their products to Quirm City for loading, they have to go by wagon and run the risk of the products getting warm enough to spoil. The Duke proposes running Undertakings not only across the City but to some larger towns in the surrounding countryside. He explained that the wine and the cheese is already stored underground in caves and cellars so all that would be needed is to connect those caves and cellars with the ones in Quirm City. Naturally, since humans are unskilled at mining and tunneling, Dwarfs would be employed for the task."

The muttering stopped. The concept of sending young Dwarfs, who might otherwise be tempted to head for Ankh-Morpork, with its sunlight temptations, in dark railcars to Quirm and take up the proper Dwarf vocation of mining? Adventurous Dwarfs being kept properly endarkened and still sending home gold to Schmaltzberg-Under-Bonk? Now there was an idea they could definitely get behind. Schelger was finding Axels at a phenomenal rate (compared to the historical one) so sending one to Quirm now wasn't the crippling loss it might have been in their fathers' time. One by one, helmeted, bearded heads began to nod slowly around the room.

Blodwen saw it and smiled behind her beard. It was easy to get agreement from her advisory council. All she had to do was explain to them how any proposed action could result in more gold for the Dwarfs.

*****

Gustav Oresmelterson looked at the proposed layout of the Quirm Undertaking. Details were few as the Quirmians sensibly only sketched out what they wanted leaving the details up to the acknowledged experts, i.e. the Dwarfs. The Low Queen had chosen the right Dwarf to head up the project. Oresmelterson had over two hundred years of experience working in hard rock, sandstone, shale and mud. If there was any geology in Quirm he hadn't seen before it was probably magical and probably in Loko.

"So all these dark places on the map are existing cellars?"

"Ouí," the Comte du Aix-en-Paines nodded. "We 'ave done our very best to locate every single one in the city. Our surveyors are at this very momen' mapping out the outlying towns to provide the same information."

Oresmelterson stroked his neatly forked beard. "Then if you would kindly give me a tour of a few of them. I need to see both the most typical as well as any that are unusual."

"But, of course!"

Unlike Ankh-Morpork which is built mostly on older Ankh-Morpork and mud, Quirm's foundations rise from honest limestone. Oresmelterson looked at it closely, scratched some off with the pick end of his mining ax and tasted it. This was going to be a stroll in the dark. First they needed to decide on a central terminal, preferably one right next to the railway station. Then there would be subsidiary lines to all the major cellars and another to the port. From there lines would branch out to the rest of the towns and possibly to the largest of estates. It would take time and lots of young Dwarfs. Keeping young Dwarfs underground where (Oresmelterson believed) they belonged was a Very Good Thing. The only fly in the ointment came at lunch. Because of the distances involved and the slower tunneling than at Ankh-Morpork, the miners would be in Quirm for years--eating Quirmian food! The Comte had dismissed the repast a mere trifle but by the time Gustav finished the tarte Tatin his taste buds were pleading for mercy. A few years of this and it was going to be hard to get the lads to go back to Dwarf Bread and rat with ketchup. Ah well, that was a problem for the future.

Moving into a cellar beneath the Comte's town house, the Dezka-k'nik settled down with the original map. First he made copious notes in runes and put the tasks in order. Then, stage by stage, he and his assistants began drawing plans, lots of plans.

*****

The Chair of Experimental Serendipity was astounded. "The Vice Chancellor makes occasional visits to Mrs. Palm's? Why? What for? Isn't that against the Lore?"

The Senior Wrangler looked over the top of his reading glasses somewhat pityingly.

"He goes there for the same reason any man goes to Mrs. Palm's, Chair. I realize that you are of an age where such feelings are but a distant memory but Stibbons is still relatively youthful. Additionally, I am given to understand that he was personally and purposefully sent there by the Goddess of Negotiable Affection. Petulia is a very popular goddess and so wields immense power, though I am unaware that she has ever thrown a lightening bolt. She is reported to have stated that in Stibbons' case is was a matter of mental and physical health because holding as many positions on the University Council as he does is stressful. And no, there isn't anything in the Lore to forbid it. Even the rule against marriage for wizards is more a guideline than an actual Rule. The Archchancellor himself said so and the Librarian did a search of the files and agrees. So long as no more Sourcerors are born, it's just a matter of personal choice. So why are you so excited?"

"Well, it's just that--that--well--I never had any inclinations along those lines. Frankly, I prefer male company and big dinners and I thought that was pretty much a general feeling here in Unseen."

Senior Wrangler folded up his reading glasses and put them in an inner pocket of his robe.

"Doubtless you are correct--generally. But general does not equal universal. Historically, a modest number of wizards have left Unseen to marry. Admittedly the number is not great but they are in the record. As far as we can tell, Simon either married or entered into a relationship with Eskarina Smith producing a son. There have been others and today I am married to Mrs. Whitlow and Jeremy Barcbeadle and Phoebe Emergent-Weatherwax are a very contented couple. And this is all approved by the Archchancellor. So if Petulia saw fit to insert herself into the Vice Chancellor's lovelife, who are we to object?"

The Chair was visibly befuddled and walked away, muttering to himself.

*****

"He's really just the most darling man," Sarah advised Mrs. Palm, "The Vice Chancellor doesn't seem to have any outré tastes or kinky desires. All the dear man needs is some cuddling, a massage, an affectionate fucking and a good night's sleep. He wakes up bright and cheerful, kisses me good-bye and heads back to the University for breakfast with a promise to see me again in a week or so. He's the kind of client we could use more of."

Rosie Palm poured tea for each of them. "After the first visit, (on the house, courtesy of Petulia) he's not only paid up, but tips generously upon leaving. He's not only darling but seems to think rather highly of you. Well done, my girl."

"Thank-you, Mrs. Palm. I always try to do my best."

"And your best is quite good, Sarah. It sets me to wondering why other Wizards don't come calling. I know that the historical preference at Unseen is for large dinners (and two breakfasts, a pair of substantial lunches and generous inter-luncheon morsels) but why so few of them seem interested in any female company begs the question of whether or not there is a connection between celibacy and magic. I am aware that only a very few witches marry so perhaps there is something in that."

"Do any of them patronize Mr. Harris' Blue Cat Club?"

"Not that I'm aware of. If any do, they would go incognito. And a wizard without his hat? I think not! No, with very rare exceptions it seems that the city's defense against ghastly and tentacled eldritch incursions has sublimated their normal male interests to food. It's very strange, in my opinion, but at least we have the Vice Chancellor."

*****

As he had many times in the past, Havelock Vetinari, Patrician of Ankh-Morpork, regarded his assistant Drumknott thoughtfully. Lady Margolotta would be coming to visit next week and with her, as always, would be her librarian, Miss Healstether. The two employers had, simply for light amusement, once manipulated their employees into comparing ring binders and office stationary. The tactic seemed to work as Drumknot and Miss Healstether had developed an attraction. In the meantime, Drumknott had started showing considerable enthusiasm for the Ankh-Morpork and Sto Plains Hygienic Railway. Since Margolotta would be spending an entire week at the Palace, dispatching the two assistants for a overnight (or two) to Quirm might have positive results. He would have to discuss it with her when she arrived, preferably over a glass of wine or two.

*****

The Low Queen's explanation for selling an Axel to Quirm had quelched the majority of grumbling among the Dezka-k'niks but Dwarfs are, as she said, a fractious species so they could always find something to argue about. The present source of discontent was who would get the next Axel Schelger discovered. There wasn't any sign that it had, yet, but generally among the Dwarfs, the futures market in disagreement was always active.

'Generally', however, does not mean 'Universally' and some few dwarves prefer a quiet quaff to an eternal squabble. Among them were Gustav Gustavscousin and Bjorn Bjornagainson. They wandered into the pub named Gold LXXVIII (the number is low because it is a venerable pub, many centuries old), ordered a flagon (45 oz.) each and settled down in a corner booth.

"A strange thing happened in Shaft 30L today," Bjorn began, "One of the lads was following a promising seam when all at once the wall gave way opening onto a huge, dark void. We shone some lights into it and it turns out to be an enormous cavern. Never seen one of those here in Schmaltzberg before."

"A cavern, you say? I've heard of those being in Copperhead and of course there's the Peace Cavern in Koom Valley that's been sealed back up so the stalagmites covering B'hrian Bloodaxe and the rest can grow back, but here? In Schmaltzberg? Who would have ever imagined? And you say it's big?"

"No, I said it was huge. We talked about it for a while and all we can figure out is that we'll need vurms before we can properly survey the place. There's no way we could ever get enough lamps in to properly light it up. Vurms would be the only way."

"Hmmm," Gustav mused, "and vurms take feeding. How could we afford that many? Probably better to just close off the opening and choose another shaft."

"I'm not sure about that. I've sent a report to the Low Queen because I've heard that she's interested in promoting tourism."

"Tourism?"

"Yes," Bjorn continued, "It seems to be all the rage among the upper class humans. Load your family onto the railway, go someplace far away, take an iconograph along and when you get back, show your friends the pictures and swank about how cosmopolitan you are. It appears that there is serious money to be made."

Gustav blinked slowly. He was fully in favor of serious money. Dwarfs just are. Anyone tossing about the phrase 'unimaginable wealth' has never had to deal with Dwarfish imagination.

"Serious money, you say? That will get Blodwen's attention. I mean, it certainly has mine. Hmmm. You know we'd not only need vurms but the tunnels will have to be opened. It's a rare human who can navigate Dwarf mines the way Captain Headbanger does. And we'd probably have to cut walkways and the like. That means plenty of work for miners. Who is the Dezka-k'nik of that mine? I'd like to go take a look at it."

Bjorn twirled his mustache thoughtfully, "I believe the Dwarf you want to talk to is Ironbender Helmcleaverson. He's relatively young but a good, careful mine boss. I'm sure he'd be delighted to show off his newest discovery. Go look him up."

Helmcleaverson was quite happy to show off the new discovery, at least as far as he could. Showing Bjorn the opening in the wall, he took a lamp and shined it into the void. The light could only reach so far and it was very obvious that there was vast emptiness beyond its reach. But what it did reveal was breath-taking. Strangely shaped and colored formations hinted at even more wonders hiding in the darkness. Bjorn took off his helmet and whistled in stunned admiration.

"And to think Gustav thought we ought to seal this away. By Tak, in all my years I've never seen anything like it. Yes, the Low Queen needs to read my report and then come down here for a personal look. Ironbender, my Dwarf, I suggest that you get a head start on this and start sourcing vurms and then planning trails around the cave. Once Blodwen sees this, she'll want to get started turning it into a tourist attraction as soon as possible."

"Do you think we should lay track and run cars from the surface? That would be a lot faster than cutting the tunnel higher."

"Good idea. Humans take up a lot less room when they're sitting down."

*****

Drumknott was surprised that Vetinari and Lady Margolotta thought he ought to take Miss Healstether on a train trip to Quirm. Not that he had any objections, mind, he thought her company most pleasant and riding the railway was one of his favorite diversions. It had even surpassed his light gambling. So he acquiesced, packed a valise and on the appointed day helped Miss Healstether into a private railcar.

"Have you ever been to Quirm, Miss Healstether?" he asked.

"I have not," she replied, "Lady Margolotta buys much of her wine from there but she orders it by clacks and has it shipped to Bonk. I have heard stories of it, of course, everyone has. So this excursion should be delightful."

"And the Lady insists that we take her private car. Normally, I try to ride as close the engine as I can but a private railcar is the height of luxury. May I suggest that we just have it parked on a siding and forego staying in a hotel?"

Miss Healstether dropped her chin and looked at Drumknott from lowered eyelids. Spending two nights together in a private railcar? Rufus, she thought, you devil, you.

"Why, yes. That would be the most practical idea. Let's do that!" She fluttered her eyelashes and made Drumknott blush.

*****

Angua lay snuggled close to Carrot. He was scratching her behind the ears, a most pleasurable sensation. She could never decide whether she liked cuddling better in wolf form or human. When you are a canine, having your ears scratched is a sensual delight but when she was human he was much more likely to fondle her bottom and that was wonderful, too. Frequently it led to even more fun, something that getting ear scratches never did. She whined softly in contentment and then went to sleep to the music of Carrot's soft snores.

*****

"You want what?" Lady Sybil was astounded, "Why would you want a swimming costume?"

"Because there's this very nice ornamental pond to swim in and Lethality says her mother would be very upset if we went skinny-dipping. I told her I didn't think you'd like it either and since we didn't bring any with us we need to go buy some."

The Duchess' face froze. Yes, by Io, she would indeed be very upset if she found out that her son and his little friend (who had every intention of marrying Sammy--eventually) were doffing their clothes for a dip in the pond. On the other hand, the fact that he was being up front and honest about it was a definite point in his favor. Much better than sneaking off on their Cloudsplitter carpets and trying to conceal misbehavior. She considered, thoughtfully.

"Well, I'm not sure where one could find such garments but perhaps if we enquired among the younger staff there might be a shop you two could flit over to. Or possibly one of the needlewomen could make you each a couple. I'll ask around to see what can be arranged."

A couple of days later, the enquiries turned up one Modiste L'Couturière, a needlewoman spoken of in hushed terms by all the household staff and with admiration by all the local gentry. She was one who never had to beg for payment because if you weren't on time and in full, she would simply let word get out that you were cut off from her clientele and were thus banished from the ranks of the fashionable. Men might not care but ladies certainly did, so Mme L'Couturière derived a comfortable income from her craft.

"Please understand, Madame," Helena Wiggs explained, "this cannot be something flowing and billowy. Assassins all learn to swim, though we do it in the nude with the gentlemen and ladies separated, of course. With my daughter and the young Marquise wanting to go swim together, this is obviously impossible. So wool is out, likewise linen. I am thinking knit silk might work."

Mme L'Couturière maintained a blank face. Having had a very adventurous girlhood and still being up for the game, she would have let the children doff their clothing and dive in but the aristocrats of Ankh were, it seemed, far more circumspect about such things.

"So, you will want something tight-fitting and sleek? Perhaps something along these lines."

Taking up a pencil and a large sheet of paper, the dressmaker sketched out something that covered each of the youngsters snuggly from elbow to knee and tied up in the back. To others in the Vimes-Ramkin social circle they would have been almost shockingly risqué but for practical swimming they made a great deal of sense. And, as Helena had said, assassins all had to know how to swim.

"You know, I believe those will do nicely. If you could please make some for Li in black and the others for young Sam in the Ramkin family colors?"

Mme L'Couturière quoted a price and promised delivery in three to four days after the children's measurements arrived. As it happened Lady Wiggs had anticipated this and handed the dressmaker a sheet of paper with proper dimensions for each offspring.

She took the sketches back to Crundell's and showed them to first, Lady Sybil (whose eyes widened in surprise) and then to Li whose eyes widened in excitement. Yes, she would be suitably covered but once the silk was wet, it should cling to her. That ought to keep Sammy thinking about her for the upcoming term.

Sammy looked at his set of horizontal stripes in puzzlement. The suit did look as though one could paddle across the pond, though, so he shrugged acceptance. Maybe, he thought, they should ask for a punt to paddle about in, too. The pond began to look to be the high point of the entire vacation--at least for him. His father was already down at the shipwright's poring over the new steam paddle wheeler. He really hoped to get it launched an into the river for trials this year.

*****

While the Low Queen gazed into the new cavern she was of two minds. On one hand the descriptions of the place were so understated as to be laughable. It may be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. On the other, rapid calculations of the cost of underground railways, trails, guard rails and the feeding of vurms balanced very favorably with the potential revenue of visiting humans and allied species. Even for a dwarf's natural enthusiasm for wealth and its possible extent, the concept was impressive.