AN :
Next goal for another extra chapter is 150 power stones.
In the Game of Stones, you either win or you wait. The more Power Stones you offer, the faster the chapters come.
...
( Kevan Lannister POV )
Kevan chuckled slightly as he saw the servants rushing down the hall, stopping to let them pass despite the fact that he was, technically, acting lord of Casterly Rock. They were carrying what looked like an awful lot of paper after all.
Kevan sighed and rubbed at his eyes.
'Whatever you intended Tywin, I doubt it was this.'
Things had been hectic at Casterly Rock recently, with Jaime going off to the Reach, Kevan had hoped it would quiet down, but far from it. His lord brother has inadvertently dumped a great heap of work on him as usual, though this time entirely by accident.
It was actually quite simple. Tywin had told Callum that he had roughly a year to finish up his existing projects before he was sent off to squire for Tygett on the north coast. From what little explanation Tywin had sent in his letter home, this was intended to slow Callum down a bit and to encourage him to finish the projects he'd already started.
What Tywin had probably not expected was that rather than convince Callum to slow down, it had seemingly lit a fire under his ass. Kevan had never seen Callum working so hard, the boy had always been of a somewhat relaxed character despite his blessings. Certainly, he was excited in arguments, or when he wanted to show off a new creation, as with his arc lamps, but most of the time he just seemed to like hiding away in his tower and working on whatever took his fancy.
To Kevan's knowledge, the only reason Callum had set foot in his tower all week was to drag things down out of it. Practically the minute he'd gotten the letter back from Tywin, the boy had sequestered himself in a parlor with his retinue of artisans and then come to Kevan with a list of rooms he wanted to requisition in the rock. Resources he needed, and the money to hire laborers, hundreds of laborers.
He had presented a great list, and a notional plan of action, and a dozen other things besides. He needed goldsmiths and bronze workers, and regular blacksmiths and makers of cast iron pots and pans. He needed men who could carry heavy loads and men who could work ropes under torsion. He wanted a survey done on the side of Casterly Rock, and another on its summit. He wanted architects and castle-builders and men who had been inside the Titan of Braavos.
Kevan, understandably, did not feel entirely comfortable in his role as Castellan approving all of those expenses. He had written a letter with a summary of them and sent it to Tywin by Raven. When it returned from King's Landing, it contained only one line of text.
'Spare no reasonable expense for the construction of the statue of Joanna.'
Kevan had thought long and hard on that phrasing, and come to the conclusion that what his brother probably wanted was for Kevan to just approve whatever Callum asked for. Then when the cost inevitably went far, far over what anyone could possibly predict, Tywin would give Kevan a bit of hell for it and then leave it at that.
The total cost of the printing presses, when one factored in all the paper mills, ink production, raw material costs, workers, buildings, and all was already set to cost House Lannister some 250,000 Gold Dragons over a period of three years. This statue and lighthouse that Callum and Tywin wanted to build of Joanna would probably cost more if Kevan had the right of it. Kevan didn't even want to think about what the total cost might be when it was all said and done.
So, to minimize the amount of shit he would take from Tywin for the inevitable expense they would occur by giving the little smith-made-flesh access to the treasuries of House Lannister, Kevan was doing a very careful job of tracking the reasoning for each and every expenditure. If Callum wanted money for something, he had to come visit Kevan, explain his reasoning and the expected costs, and then Kevan would write it up and store it. It was a system the boy himself had suggested, and it was the only thing helping Kevan sleep better at night as the plans for what was becoming a monumental project were developing.
"Uncle!"
Kevan blinked out of his musings as the source of his recent troubles, young Callum, came bounding up to him, for once not carrying a bundle of drawings with him, but instead grinning ear to ear and still full of that manic energy that had possessed him of late.
"What's got you riled up?" Kevan asked glancing down. The boy's hair was getting longer again, so he was probably going to cut it soon. Callum was rather touchy about his more feminine appearance since he'd returned from Dorne. Kevan supposed the declaration that Callum had been blessed by the maiden would put any self-respecting man or boy on edge. "Is something going on?"
"Yes!" Callum said, burbling with excitement. "You've got to come to the Southern Balcony, now! We've finished the lift!" the boy bounced on his heels a bit, clearly overeagre to display his latest miracle. Kevan had gotten to know his personality more in these last few weeks than he had in his entire life before now. At dinner, Callum had always been a quiet, proper, well-behaved child who seemed to take after Tywin in his seriousness and his inclination towards politics. Now though, with his band of artisans at his beck and call, and with funding to actually achieve his desires, Callum had opened up his study's doors like a sluice gate on a river and let the ideas pour out.
Kevan hurried along behind as the boy tugged him forward excitedly to one of the many balconies and overlooks on the southern side of Casterly Rock, where he could look out and see the heavy iron chains and steep wooden ramps linking a number of landings up the mountain's side from around the base of the Lion's Mouth all the way up to its back, where the courtyard sat amongst a few other structures.
"Here" Kevan blinked as his nephew shoved something into his hands, glancing down, he saw that it was an odd device- some sort of Far eye, with two brass tubes connected on a hinge. "Those are binoculars, hold them to both your eyes instead of just one."
Kevin paused, then lifted the device up to his eyes futzing with the brass latch that held the two far-eyes together, he looked down the mountainside towards the landings with the changes between them. "So they're going to carry a few crates up from the bottom of Casterly Rock to the top?" Kevan knew what the lift was intended to do, Callum had explained it when he'd wanted funding for the massive wrought iron chains that were intended to drive it, not to mention the labor of installing the ramps and leveling the platforms, but actually having it done was a considerable boon.
There was a large series of ramps dug into Casterly Rock long ago that allowed horsedrawn wagons to make the trip from the Lion's Mouth up to the Living Quarters. They had been built long ago to bring gold out of the castle and food and firewood into it, but the process took some seven hours as the horses couldn't climb stairs and the ramps had to be shallow. The lift could, theoretically, take materials up to the Lion's back in only half an hour or so.
"They should be starting at the bottom in a few minutes, down by the type foundry." Callum directed, and it took Kevan a moment to find what he was talking about. Down at the very bottom of the mountain, men were loading a few boxes onto a large wooden platform.
"Ah, looks like they're ready to go now… where's that flag?" Callum asked, and Kevan glanced away from his 'binoculars' to see his nephew searching around for his signal flag, before finding it tucked against the edge of the balcony. Raising the bright white and blue colored ribbon, the boy held it up and waved it back and forth. Glancing down once again, Kevan saw that the message had been received on the ground level, and in the distance, the heavy iron chains began to move.
Slowly, gradually, the wooden platform began to rise up the steep incline on its wheels, carried up the mountainside by the chains, meanwhile, a second wooden platform, which had been sitting at the top of the ramp, began to descend down the mountainside at the same pace.
"Is there a reason they're both moving at once?" Kevan asked idly as he looked at the arrangement.
"Yes, both platforms are on the same chain, which is hooked around a Capstan driven by a team of horses at the top end. They pull the chain, but the other platform acts as a counterweight, like on a trebuchet. That helps reduce the weight the horses need to pull considerably, and when the time comes to raise the other platform, the one they've just raised now will be the counterweight."
It took a few minutes for the platform to reach the top of its ramp, and Kevan watched as it was locked in place by more chains before the wooden crates that were being sent up the mountain were taken from it and carried over to the next platform for the next lift. Glancing up the mountainside with his Binoculars, Kevan counted six such landings to reach the Lion's back.
"It's a clever thing," he admitted, reaching over to pat Callum on his head. "This will help House Lannister even after the statue of your mother is finished." Already Kevan could see the utility of such a thing. There was still gold mining on the North side and Lower levels of Casterly Rock, the lift would let them lower the materials to ground level.
"That's the idea." Callum pointed down below them to where the forest between the bay and the 'foot' of Casterly Rock was being rapidly cut away and new buildings were being raised. "The new ironworks will also be useful long afterward, so will the lighthouse itself, the new docks, the communities of craftsmen, merchants, and the like. They'll all be drawn here, and each of them will make us stronger." Callum said eagerly. "By the time I come back a knight… by then…" Callum trailed off, and Kevan glanced over at the boy's expression, which had suddenly grown a bit melancholy.
"Is something wrong Callum?" Kevan asked. It wasn't usual to see the boy glum, especially with the drive that had filled him recently. Even before that melancholy was not a typical emotion for Callum. Not since he stopped mourning his mother at least.
"Hmm?" Callum blinked, then glanced up at him, his cheeks coloring a bit. "Ah, no, no sorry, it's just that… well I just realized that by the time I return to Casterly Rock, we might be-" he cut himself off sharply. "Sorry, that is, I meant to say it'll probably be around the time I'm to marry Princess Elia."
"Are you not looking forward to that Callum?" Kevan teased, trying to lift his nephew's mood. He could well understand the fright of leaving home for a long time to squire. When he had gone off to fight the Ninepenny Kings, Kevan had been sure that he would never come back.
Callum wasn't going to war, but that didn't mean he wouldn't be scared of leaving. Best to take his mind off of it. "Princess Elia is quite beautiful you know, I'm sure you'll feel quite happy with it in a few years." Kevan grinned and patted his head. "Well, then again, she hasn't been 'blessed with beauty by the maiden' so maybe you're setting your standards too high."
"Oh God, Uncle, stop, stop!" Callum threw off his hand. "It's bad enough that I hear about it every time I talk to a Septon!" the boy groaned in annoyance, and Kevan smiled. It was yet another sign of Callum coming out of his shell since his trip to Dorne, the little perfectly behaved recluse that he remembered never would have expressed his annoyance so openly. Of course, being his uncle, Kevan had no problem with annoying him whatsoever.
"I suppose you're so offended by it that you're letting your hair grow out again?" Kevan asked, giving the boy a grin that made his playful intention clear.
"Eh, no that's not… well… that's for the statue, that doesn't count!"
"You're growing your hair out to your father's style again for the statue?" Kevan asked. "How does that work?"
"To my mothers." the boy shook his head. "Pella is going to sculpt my face and use it for a reference since everyone says I look like Mother," Callum replied quietly. Kevan could barely hear the end of his words over the wind on the heights. "I thank the seven that Aunt Genna volunteered to model the body."
Kevan snorted, then chuckled, then laughed cheerfully as he reached over and rubbed the boy's head. Truly, Callum was a dutiful son.
Kevan was still laughing when dust began to rise on the face of the rock, as at the second section of the lift from the top, something broke and both platforms went hurtling down to the level below them with a crash.
Callum, now released from his suddenly silent uncle's grip, rushed to the edge of the balcony to look with his own binoculars, cursing. "Damn, Chain must have snapped. I've got to get over there and check the damage." It was remarkable how quickly he turned from an embarrassed or melancholy young boy back to the tiny taskmaster who had some three hundred servants rushing about to see his vision done.
"Damn it damn it damn it, and that should have been well under the weight thresholds… must have been a weakness in the chain…" Callum stormed off back into the rock, no doubt rushing to go address the breakage in his most recent world-changing project. Kevan was left watching him go wondering just what went through that little head of his.
Whatever it was, the seven had probably put it there, in Kevan's estimation, and that meant it probably wasn't his business.
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