The Wealth of Kings (15 page)

Al nodded. “That is good,” he said. “That should go a long way toward purchasing food, then.”

Hento raised his hand. “I am afraid that will not go as far as you think, my king.”

Al arched a brow. “Explain.”

Hento stood and shook his head. “The normal price for a block of cheese has traditionally been stable at three silver pieces. However, in the wake of the destruction of the war, and the food shortage claimed by the merchants, that same block of cheese has now risen to one gold, or even twice that in some of the villages.”

“That’s outrageous!” Dvek howled.

Hento nodded in agreement. “A bushel of apples can cost as much as one gold crown.”

Al couldn’t believe what he was hearing. With prices like that, the merchants would be bleeding most families dry. There were few he knew in Buktah that could ever afford those prices well enough to eat beyond a meager subsistence level. What it meant for the dwarves was even worse. Unless they could find a productive mine, there would be much suffering in Roegudok Hall.

Helmi, a portly she-dwarf stood and gave her accounting next. “In terms of inventory, we have nothing to sell unless the mines produce more ore. We have a few bracelets and the like, but nothing fancy enough to catch a human’s interest.”

Pikari, Helmi’s sister, added her thoughts. “It doesn’t sound like most humans will have the means to buy jewelry or fine crafts anyhow if they are struggling to buy apples.”

Al nodded and leaned forward. “A good number of Mathias’ citizens live and work on a nobleman’s land. Normally, that nobleman can produce enough for the people on his land. So, it is still possible to find areas where trade can flourish.”

A heavy pounding echoed through the throne room and everyone turned to the wall just as a large hunk of stone fell in and slammed onto the floor, chipping and breaking into pieces as bits slid out from across the polished floor of the throne room.

“What is the meaning of this?” Alferug gasped.

Al stood and pointed to the wall. “Everyone, I want to show you my short term plan for augmenting trade.”

None of the others spoke.

As the moments ticked by, bits of stone fell out from the wall until a rough passageway was opened to a chamber that none but Al knew existed. Al motioned for the others to follow him to the wall.

“Ferrick has told me that we do have an ample supply of iron, so I thought we could create items needed outside Roegudok Hall.” Al turned to Ferrick and pointed at the Smithing Advisor. “You did say we had roughly three tons of good quality iron, correct?”

Ferrick nodded. “Yes, and as you and Benbo suggested, we are busy working the metal into nails, latches, hinges, and braces to be used in rebuilding the human settlements.”

“Are you suggesting that we withdraw our offer of aid and start charging Mathias for the supplies?” Dvek asked.

Al shook his head. “No, nothing like that. However, I have chosen three smithing apprentices to work with me in my personal forge. We will craft weapons and armor. Having seen firsthand the destruction of the war with Tu’luh and the orcs, I know that the Middle Kingdom could use more armaments. We will sell those. I have redirected one ton of iron to my forge, and with it we can create enough arms and armor to purchase much more food than we could otherwise.” Al looked to Kangas. “When you produce textiles, you must pay your workers. This means that most of the money you said could be made from the endeavor will not come to the royal treasury. While it will help some of your workers and their families, it won’t address the overall food shortage we face.”

“What are you proposing?” Alferug asked.

Al beamed ear to ear and waved to his forge. “I was never meant to be a king, at least, that is what I told my father. I not only completed smithing training, but I became one of the finest smiths Roegudok Hall has ever seen.”

Ferrick nodded. “It is true. The king’s name still hangs in the Smithing College as the second best smith to ever graduate. His quality of workmanship, and the speed with which he can produce, are currently unequaled.”

Al took his hammer in hand. “When I am not otherwise engaged in official duties, I will be in the forge. The items I produce can be sold, and all of the profit can be used to barter for food. The people of Buktah know my name well. Beyond that city, I am known throughout many places in the Middle Kingdom. They will pay for my weapons and armors.”

Alferug stepped in close to Al so that none else could hear. “What of the Wealth of Kings? We must spend our free time looking for the way in.”

Al nodded. “I can’t beat the riddle by sitting at my desk. I do my best thinking when I am manipulating metal and swinging my hammer. I will solve the riddle, but I must do so while helping our people.”

Dvek stepped in and gently moved Alferug aside. Al turned to the man and saw a small tear forming in the Commerce Minister’s left eye. “I have not seen a king so willing to devote himself to his people. After working under your brother, may I say that it is an honor to serve you now.”

Al took Dvek’s outstretched hand and smiled back at him. “We’ll get through this together,” Al said. The dwarf king then took the council through the forge, showing them his equipment and letting them inspect the operation. Then, he sent them out with a charge to continue their efforts and assuring them that they would solve Roegudok Hall’s shortage before winter came.

*****

Hiasyntar’Kulai, stood watch over the ruins of Valtuu Temple from a hill a few hundred yards away. Several priests worked near the rubble, building a new home for their order. The sound of pickaxes and hammers working the stone rang out melodically as the hot sun bore down from overhead.

With the former prelate dead, and the Keeper of Secrets missing along with Lady Dimwater, the new prelate had decided it best to reestablish the temple so that Hiasyntar’Kulai would have a place to rest and recuperate as he resumed his duties watching over the people of the Middle Kingdom.

Hiasyntar’Kulai smiled as he caught sight of Sissil in her flowing, white dress. She exited the stone building and was pointing to the rubble. A couple of priests with her were nodding their heads and then they moved toward the ruin. Sissil then turned and waved at a group of twenty young men and women seated on the ground nearby before walking toward them and speaking. Hiasyntar’Kulai couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he knew she was teaching the new initiates. The dragon thought that Sissil was doing very well as the new prelate.

The golden dragon thought of his son, Tu’luh the Red. His happy heart grew heavy and he set his head down upon his forelegs. Tu’luh had been defeated, and the orcs had been driven back to the south, but there were still dangers that threatened the fragile peace within the Middle Kingdom. With Master Lepkin disappearing, nobles were again jostling for favor with the old king, hoping he might name them as his successor in the event of his death.

It was also possible that other orc tribes could attack from the south. The Middle Kingdom had suffered a great many losses, and could ill afford to fend off another assault just yet.

Still, despite all of this, there was hope. Nagar’s Secret had been destroyed, and the threat it brought with it was vanquished. If only he could find the addorite that Tu’luh had stolen, then perhaps he could make more headway.

Hiasyntar’Kulai suddenly became aware of a presence near him. He turned and saw a stranger standing on the grassy hill with him. The Father of the Ancients did not know him by name, but he knew his order.

“Do you come bearing grave news?” the dragon asked in his low, deep voice.

The stranger pulled back the green hood on his cloak. “I am here seeking answers,” he said. “I recently visited the dwarf king, and thought that perhaps I should come and visit you as well.”

The dragon emitted a soft, throaty growl. “It has been a long time since I have seen one of your order. I had hoped never to set eyes upon you again.”

The man in the green robes smiled and nodded knowingly. “All things move in turn,” he said. “Still, I am not here to discuss that. I came to pay respects.”

“An interesting sentiment, coming from you,” Hiasyntar’Kulai said. “Still, if you wish, hospitality is not dead among dragons. I can prepare a feast for you.”

“No,” the man said. He waved his hand and floated up to be at eye level with the Father of the Ancients. He locked his blue eyes with Hiasyntar’Kulai and the two remained silent for many moments as they stared into each other’s eyes. The Father of the Ancients could feel the man sifting through his memories and reliving them in a matter of moments. Then, the stranger broke the spell and nodded with a slight smile. “I will be going now.”

“Do you have what you need?” the dragon asked.

The stranger refused to answer as he disappeared like an extinguished flame into the ether.

*****

Several hours after the council had been dismissed, Al was walking into his bedchamber. He greeted the two guards and pushed into his room, closing the door and locking it behind himself. It had felt good to finally be working a forge again. His arms throbbed from the pounding, and his clothes smelled of sweat, dirt, and smoke. He lifted the leather apron from his chest and laid it over the back of the chair at his desk. Then he took off his boots and shoved them next to the chair.

His hand went to his belt and he found his hammer tucked safely at his waist. He pulled it up and twirled it in his hand before letting the solid head fall and thump into his other palm. He still felt the weight of the crown upon his head, but it somehow felt lighter now. It wasn’t just the work of the forge, it was the smells, the sounds, and the heat all combined in a way that invigorated the dwarf king. He no longer had the war to fight alongside Erik and the others, but while fashioning weapons and armor, he could reclaim his purpose, and regain his sense of self.

Al peeled off his socks and wiggled his toes upon the cold stone floor of his room. A cool breeze rolled into the room from the outside. Al sniffed and narrowed his eyes on the door. He was certain he had closed it. Ever since that stranger in green robes had appeared on the balcony, Al had always ensured the door was locked except when he wanted to go out onto the balcony.

The dwarf king gripped his hammer tightly, ready to pulverize the tall invader if he had dared to come back.

Year 3,711 Age of Demigods, Early Autumn.

2
nd
year of the reign of Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu, 13
th
King of Roegudok Hall.

“I hate to say it, but I wasn’t sure you could get us this far,” Delmecian said as they approached the landing that Threnton said led into the hallway near the king’s chambers.

“One should never underestimate a dwarf,” Threnton replied evenly. “I found this tunnel shortly after my brother tried to depose me the first time. Had it not been for my cousins, he would have died afterward.”

“How did you find it?” Delmecian asked.

Threnton stopped and smirked. “My guards told me that my brother had come through a large mirror. I couldn’t open the passageway from the inside, so I figured the best way to find it would be to retrace my brother’s steps. It wasn’t that hard to find.”

“The moonstone you spoke of, is that it?” Delmecian asked as he pointed to a glowing blue stone on the side of the cliff face.

Threnton nodded. “That was the hardest part about this whole thing,” he said. “Figuring out that the passage was sealed by a moonstone took me a couple of days, but I did find it.” Threnton grinned and motioned for Delmecian to keep up. “I will take us in, and then I will kill my brother.”

“I am sure the Blacktongue will see to that,” Delmecian replied.

Threnton shook his head. “It takes a lot to catch my brother off guard. I am willing to bet the Blacktongue will fail.” He sneered and then added, “I am going to break that arrogant pig’s nose.”

“Remember,” Delmecian cautioned. “If you want to look like him, then I need to see him before you change the way his face looks.”

Threnton nodded and the two moved toward the rock below the glowing moonstone. Threnton placed his hand below the moonstone. “I Threntonsirai Sit’marihu, command the door of kings to open and allow entrance to Roegudok Hall.”

“Will it work?” Delmecian asked. “Isn’t your brother the king now?”

“Ah, but I was the king, and shall be again,” Threnton said confidently.

The mountain groaned. Shale and pebbles bounced and vibrated away from the landing they stood upon as the rock itself came alive, sliding and scraping as it writhed before them. A massive, arched slab of slate and granite removed itself to the side and revealed a shallow cavern that covered a glowing blue doorway, covered in runes and designs of stars and moons.

Threnton led the way inside without hesitating. He reached up to the side of the cavern, grabbing a brass tube.

“What is that?” Delmecian asked.

“It is the secondary key,” Threnton replied dryly. As the dwarf twisted the brass tube, a stream of light emerged from the end and shone upon a small spot on the door. Satisfied that he had adjusted the light correctly, Threnton walked forward to the door.

“I kept the last key,” Threnton said as he moved toward the door. “I bet Al has been beating his head trying to get back inside here.”

“Why would he?” Delmecian asked.

“It holds the secret of the Wealth of Kings,” Threnton said. After I locate it and show the dwarves the vast wealth of the mountain, they will beg to have me back as their king.”

“Indeed,” Delmecian said. “Just, don’t forget about our deal.”

“I never forget a debt,” Threnton promised. He traced his finger in the empty space where the jewel should be and let the light from the brass tube dance upon his skin for a moment. Threnton then pulled a pink gem from his pocket and placed the stone into the empty mount on the door and took a step back.

The silver light from the tube refracted in the pink gem, splitting its light and sending rays to the several other blue stones in the door. The runes sang in answer to the light and the door glowed brighter as each of the jewels soaked in the light.

“It isn’t opening,” Delmecian said.

“Patience,” Threnton said. “There is yet a third key.”

The dwarf stood waiting as the door grew brighter and brighter. As the brilliance grew, Delmecian shielded his face from the intense light. As the entire cave danced with the dazzling colors emitted from the stones, a pattern became visible in the center of the door. A golden dragon’s face glowed in the stone itself.

“It is a reminder of the Ancients, those who would have subjugated us under their heels and kept us as slaves,” Threnton stated sharply. “It is also the third key.” He stepped forward and put his forehead to the image of the dragon’s head, locking eyes with the glowing eyes in the stone. A yellow light emerged and created a conduit between Threnton and the image in the door. The light was warm, and inviting as it entered his eyes gently. The whole ordeal lasted only a few seconds before the light pulled back and the golden dragon turned white. Then the door vanished, allowing entrance into the great dwarven kingdom.

“Incredible,” Delmecian said.

Threnton turned back and smiled. “Dwarves are a clever folk.”

The two walked through the corridor until it came to an end. The wall was smooth and flat. There was no hint of a door anywhere.

“A fourth key?” Delmecian asked.

Threnton shook his head. “No, the keys are only used at the entrance. This door is hidden and opened by the use of a secret button.” He moved to the left side of the wall. “I can find it, just give me a moment.” He ran his hands over the surface and grinned when he found a small hole. He wiggled his pinky finger in and depressed the button inside. A series of clicks and snaps were heard. Then the sound of a heavy chain winding around a windlass echoed through the cave above the din of the stone slab sliding up into its sheath.

Threnton stepped through first. Delmecian followed only a moment later. The round chamber was filled with overturned bookcases, and books and tomes were strewn about the floor. Only the large desk on the far left of the chamber stood in place.

“What happened here?” Delmecian asked.

Threnton ignored the question. He wasn’t about to tell Delmecian that he had already tried to search the library for the location of the legendary treasure only to come up empty-handed. It didn’t matter though, for Delmecian was soon looking up and awestruck by what he saw.

“The ceiling is filled with glowing stones,” he said.

Threnton glanced up to the cupola and nodded. “Dwarf craftsmanship,” he said. “Now keep your voice down. We need to move quietly.”

The dwarf didn’t miss the fact that Delmecian was nearly drooling when his eyes spied a large chest near the desk. Threnton just urged the nobleman along and they exited the area quickly. They walked to the other side of the room where a large window was fitted into the wall with a hefty golden frame around it. Only, it wasn’t a true window. The foggy glass let in light from the hallway beyond, but Threnton knew that from the hallway it appeared to be nothing more than a mirror.

“Ready?” Threnton asked.

Delmecian pulled a thin, long dagger from his belt and nodded.

Threnton reached out and pulled the jeweled handle on the glass door.

The heavy door moved silently on perfectly hung hinges. The two of them stepped through. The hallway was clear. No one was around. Delmecian held the door open while Threnton bent down and placed an old book into the doorway to keep it from sealing shut.

“Very clever,” Delmecian whispered.

“Come, let us pay my brother a visit,” Threnton said as he pulled his hood up over his head.

*****

Al stepped out from the short tunnel leading to the balcony and looked around. There didn’t appear to be anyone there. Cautiously, he moved toward the ledge some fifteen feet away and looked down. The sheer cliff went down for hundreds of feet. So sheer was its face that even the mountain goats avoided it. He felt silly for even thinking someone might have climbed it.

There had been the stranger in green, but he had obviously used magic.

Al turned around, half expecting to see the stranger again, but there was nothing there. The mountain walls around him rose up, continuing toward the peak in a sharp incline. The tunnel stood open and clear.

Perhaps a servant had opened the door.

Yes, that must be it. Someone was cleaning and opened the door to air out the room.

Al wiggled his toes on the cold stone and then started for the tunnel.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Had it not been for the full moon at his back that night, he might not have caught a glimpse of the moving shadow approaching him. So faint and quick was its movement that he wasn’t even sure what he had seen. Still, after his adventures with Erik, he knew better than to second guess his instincts.

Al dropped down to his knee and spun around, hammer in hand.

A glinting blade slashed through the air just over his head, close enough that he felt the displacement of the air as the assassin moved.

Al struck out and caught the human in the right knee. The joint buckled inward with a resounding
crack!
As the would-be assassin stumbled, Al recognized the tell-tale tattoos and shaved head of a Blacktongue assassin.

The dwarf launched a left handed punch into the Blacktongue’s stomach, doubling the assassin over. Then he came up with the top of his hammer and struck the Blacktongue in the jaw as the assassin was falling. The jawbone shattered and the assassin fell unconscious to the ground.

Al jumped up and turned to shout for his guards, but another form was leaping down from above the tunnel. Al barely had time to roll to his left as a hatchet came spinning down at him. The blade chipped into the stone balcony, clanging loudly as it bounced out over the edge and fell. The second Blacktongue landed a moment later, swinging a wickedly curved sword in his right hand.

Al backpedaled out of the way as the tip of the sword whooshed by. The Blacktongue was sneering evilly, licking his lips and flexing his pectoral muscles as he stalked in closer.

The dwarf king had dealt with Blacktongues before, but never had they been so bold as to come to Roegudok Hall. Then it clicked in his mind. They had come because Threnton had sent them. Why else would they hunt him here? How else would they know of the king’s balcony?

This thought gave Al a burst of strength that flowed through his body. He swung his hammer, the head connected with the Blacktongue’s sword and the blade broke in three places. Sparks shot out as the metal fell to the stone.

The Blacktongue dropped the handle and went for a dagger, but Al was upon him and landed a devastating blow to the Blacktongue’s ribs. The bones cracked and broke inward. The Blacktongue was thrown several feet to the side, gasping for breath.

Al knew the ribs had managed to puncture the Blacktongue’s lungs when a stream of blood burst out from the assassin’s mouth as he exhaled sharply. The assassin moved to attack, but winced in pain and recoiled.

The dwarf seized the opening and threw his hammer. It spun gracefully end over end until the head slammed into the Blacktongue’s skull. The bone broke inward, leaving a grotesque, bloody dent in the human’s forehead. The assassin fell to the ground, dead.

Al retrieved his hammer and turned back to finish the first Blacktongue.

The assassin had come to, and was pushing up to his feet.

“You should stay down,” Al said as he readied to charge.

The Blacktongue never gave him the chance. The assassin turned and hopped on his good leg for the cliff and then leapt out into the night.

Needing to be sure that the fight was over, Al went to the edge and peered down.

He saw the flailing assassin tumbling through the air, falling to his death.

The dwarf king turned and made haste for his bedroom.

He called out for his guards.

The doors burst open, but it wasn’t his guards who came in.

A hooded dwarf and a tall man wearing a dark blue cloak came inside and bolted the door from within. Al knew immediately that Threnton was hiding his face under the hood, but he didn’t know who the human was. He recalled the stranger that had found him on the balcony before, but the man in green robes was much taller than this man, and their faces were different.

“Nice to see you, Brother,” Al said derisively. “Couldn’t make it on the outside?”

Threnton reached up slowly and pulled back his hood.

Al smirked when he saw the gray overtaking Threnton’s naturally dark hair and beard. He recalled the time when they had fought before. Threnton had used stone shell, a special spell the dwarves of Roegudok Hall could employ but once in a lifetime due to its tremendous cost as it consumed half of a dwarf’s life force.

“The throne is mine,” Threnton said. “As is the Wealth of Kings.”

Those last words hit Al the hardest. His eyes went wide and he cocked his head to the side. “Did you open the library again?” Al asked.

Threnton snorted. The deposed king turned to the human and gestured with his head toward Al.

The human brought his hands up and weaved a pattern in the air. A golden sphere of light formed in the air and shot out toward Al. The dwarf king somersaulted out to the right, managing to take cover beside his large bed. The golden orb crashed into the wall behind him and sizzled as smoke wafted up from the stone.