The Wealth of Kings (18 page)

“Be gone, serpent, I will heed no more of your lies and fearmongering.”

Tu’luh swished his tail in the air and rose higher as his wings beat stronger and stronger with each flap. “You leave me no choice,” Tu’luh said. “If you will not see reason, then I will find a way to force you to dig the addorite up. Mark my words, the next time I light upon Roegudok Hall, it will be with a sore vengeance, and none shall be able to oppose me.”

The great dragon turned and flew away, blasting fire and roaring angrily as he disappeared into the night sky.

Sylus turned back to his tunnel. Now was the time he would set things right for his people. He decided in that moment to destroy all of the old records containing the origin of the dwarves of Roegudok Hall. No more would they worship, or associate with the cursed Ancients. More than that, he would seal up the mine, and destroy all knowledge of it and the addorite it contained. Never again would a dwarf lose his life needlessly in the depths of the mountain. It would be enough to mine for gold and jewels in the more shallow parts, far above the demons and the vile lurkers.

Year 3,711 Age of Demigods, Mid-Autumn.

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

Al sat upon the edge of the king’s balcony, his feet dangling over the side. A cool morning breeze gently rose up and caressed his face. He looked down to the green leather bound book resting on the stone next to him. “To think that this very spot used to be a large landing platform for the Ancients,” Al said as he stared at the book. “What Alferug wouldn’t give to have known something like that.”

The dwarf king hadn’t slept for days. Aside from overseeing the process of clearing the bodies from his chamber and trying to identify the human, which they were unable to do, he had sent a trio of scouts out to try and identify where Threnton had been hiding. There was a concern that some of the emigrants from the mountain might have linked forces with Threnton, and could be nearby. Benbo had been quick to assure Al that if any rebels existed that intended to do harm to Roegudok Hall, he would handle them swiftly.

Then, Al had helped carry Alferug to the burial shrine. The morticians worked carefully to prepare Alferug properly for the funeral rites which would require three days’ preparation.

Afterward, the king had tried to return to his room and sleep, but his thoughts were consumed by the book written by Sylus. He read through it twice before the sun had risen in the east on the third morning after the attack. He hadn’t bothered to come out of his chamber in that entire time, except for the few times to receive food brought up by servants, and now to sit upon the balcony and take in some much needed fresh air. Everything Sylus’ book had revealed to him had changed Al’s perspective entirely.

Still, even with the book’s warnings, he couldn’t help but recall the voice that had come to him in shaft thirty-seven. Al was destined to find the wealth of kings. But why? According to everything in Sylus’ book, the mine should remain closed. Forever. He wished Alferug were still around. Al would very much have liked to discuss the dilemma with him.

As it was, there were only a few hours before the funeral rights were scheduled to happen.

Despite having reading the contents of the book, Al had not called for a halt to the mining. He knew that if he stopped it now, he might avoid waking the demons, but he would also be sentencing his people to starve through the winter.

Al reached over and took a pebble in his right hand. He extended his arm out and dropped the small rock over the edge. It quickly disappeared from view as it sailed downward. Al wondered what it must have been like for King Sylus to face off against Tu’luh by himself. Had he expected to defeat the dragon, or had he assumed he would die? Al was unable to answer that question, but he knew one thing for sure. Tu’luh had remained true to his word. He had come to subjugate Roegudok Hall in the end, not to mention the whole of the Middle Kingdom and the orc nations besides.

Sitting on that ledge, Al couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if Sylus had continued to mine the addorite. Then again, he would likely soon find out for himself. Sylus’ book had made mention of other gold and mithril veins down within the last chamber of mine thirty-seven where all of the addorite had formed. Al’s people needed the treasure to buy food.

More than that, Al had a better understanding than did Sylus about The Infinium. He had spoken with Erik and Master Lepkin about it many times during the war against Tu’luh the Red. From what he understood, The Infinium was the only book that unlocked the mysteries of the four horsemen, a terrible force the likes of which was unsurpassed in destructive power. To hear Master Lepkin or Lady Dimwater describe them, the four horsemen were beings capable of destroying entire planets, and never before had any planet marked for destruction been rescued from their onslaught. Erik asserted that Terramyr was already set on a path that would bring the four horsemen one day, and they would kill the world, and everything on it. The Infinium promised to have an answer for this otherwise inescapable destruction. It was Terramyr’s only hope for ensured survival.

If the Ancients needed the addorite to read The Infinium, then Al was going to try and get it for them. He knew Erik would do the same if he had been presented with the choice.

Al turned and rose to his feet, scooping Sylus’ secret book up into his arms and moving back through the tunnel to his chamber. He set the book down upon the desk and moved toward his wardrobe. As officiator of the funeral rites for Alferug, he would need his ceremonial armor. He hated the ostentatious suit. He had even offered to sell it or break down its components for use in bartering for food, but Alferug had rejected the idea outright.

“That is a symbol of our heritage,” Alferug had said.

Al smiled weakly as he opened the wooden door to the cabinet that concealed the armor. At least he had found one chest of gold in the library. That would go a long way toward buying his people more time. Still, with the merchant guilds in the Middle Kingdom joining forces to gouge prices for produce and meat, the newfound treasure wouldn’t go as far as Al would have otherwise liked.

He stared at the gaudy suit of armor sitting upon its stand inside the cabinet and sighed. “If it were anyone else’s funeral, I would wear my smithing apron and black trousers,” Al grumbled to himself. He didn’t mean it, of course. The funeral traditions were held sacred among the dwarves of Roegudok Hall, but he couldn’t help but feel like a stuffed pig on display at a feast whenever he thought of wearing the royal armor.

Al reached into the cabinet and pulled out the first pieces he needed. He could have asked for help, but he didn’t want anyone else around him until he had had a few more moments to think by himself. He begrudgingly changed into his royal armor. It wasn’t as functional a suit as one he would make for himself. It was meant for occasions such as this, where the show and perception of power was more important than the armor’s actual strength or utility. A silver encrusted breastplate with gold inlay around the engraved edges shone brightly in the torchlight of his room. Each masterfully carved rune was traced with a line of gold. Each rivet that attached the layering plates was covered with a cap of ruby or emerald stone. The suit was polished to such a high sheen that Al could see his reflection as clearly as if he looked into a mirror. The greaves were equally as stunning. They were made from black, Telarian steel. Sharp contrasting lines of silver and gold were braided down the outer sides of the greaves, weaving around each other in such a way as to dazzle any onlooker when the armor walked past.

He fastened the greaves first, and then moved to sit in a backless chair to put his boots on. The insides of the boots were made of leather lined with thin rabbit fur to keep the sharp, rigid plates of steel from cutting into him. He barely managed to stuff his feet down inside without falling over backwards off the chair, but he eventually succeeded in hitching them to the greaves with the clasps just below the knee. Al stood up and swung his right leg out. His range of motion was drastically reduced. He would have to walk slowly. He turned and began donning the pads that went under the breastplate and pauldrons before grabbing the outer armor itself. Al slid his hands into the gauntlets afterward. They were longer than most conventional gauntlets, stretching out to cover the forearm up to the elbow joint. Rubies and sapphires studded the wrists of the plated gauntlets, while a great diamond was set in the middle of the forearm so as to look like an eye, outlined in gold. The final piece was the helmet. Al took the open faced helmet in hand and looked at the crown fused to the top. As if the rest of the ensemble wasn’t gaudy enough, the crown featured a diamond directly in the center, flanked by two rectangular cut amethysts, which were followed around the rim by a pattern of emeralds, sapphires, rubies, and onyx.

“I still think it needs a unicorn’s horn,” Al quipped.

He set the helmet atop his head and moved to look in the nearest mirror. It was terrible. He could barely stand to look at himself. He wasn’t like a stuffed pig at all. No, he looked more like a prancing, primping peacock with jewels tied to the body. Had he not been going to the funeral rites, he would have torn the ridiculous suit of armor off and kicked it under the bed to hide it, or perhaps tossed it over the balcony outside.

“I’m selling this thing as soon as I can,” Al promised himself.

He made his way out and into the tunnel. As soon as he was in the hallway, he was flanked and followed by six guards. When they had learned of the attack, his bodyguards had insisted they would be going everywhere with him. It was a wonder they let him remain alone inside his room over the last couple of days. Both Kijik and Benbo had argued that Al should let them post permanent guards on the king’s balcony as well. Al had been able to broker a compromise, but it was still one that he felt uncomfortable with. Any place outside of his own bedchamber, he was to be accompanied at all times by half a dozen warriors. Al figured he would be spending a lot more time in his room, or perhaps he could have them remain in the throne room if he was in his forge with his apprentices.

They moved down through the mountain and into a large shrine that was located a quarter mile to the west of the main hall. It was modest enough, but still displayed the proud dwarven workmanship that so characteristically defined the rest of Roegudok Hall.

Four half-columns were carved from the walls, which were in turn engraved to look as though the shrine was built with stone brick, rather than simply hollowed out from the mountain. A single dwarven rune was carved into each of the half-columns.

Stone pews formed the seating area before the raised dais and granite pulpit. Behind the pulpit, a large mural was painted onto the stone wall showing Hiasyntar’Kulai, the Father of the Ancients. The painting had been ordered by Al’s father several centuries before. Al smirked when he saw it. He wondered what Sylus would say if he could see such a mural in place now.

Then his eyes drifted down and he saw the stone casket lying in front of the pulpit. His heart sank. He stepped toward the coffin and rested his hands on the open edge, looking down to Alferug. The deceased, gray-haired dwarf looked as though he were simply resting with his hands at his sides. Al shook his head and sighed heavily.

“The lining should be silk,” he said to Alferug. “Forgive me, my friend, but wool is all we can afford at this time. I know it doesn’t fit for a dwarf of your stature, but it is the best I can do.” Al nearly smiled as he reached up to wipe a tear. “You know,” he said half choking on the lump in his throat. “I could have gotten you silk lining if you had let me sell this ridiculous suit of armor.” He laughed once, a forced, short lived moment that had the sound of mirth but carried with it none of the joy.

*****

“Hey, boss, I found something,” a miner called out as he rolled a large boulder out from a pile of stones leading into a small side chamber that was only a few feet deep and perhaps a yard wide.

The crew leader walked up and whistled as he approached a large mound of pink crystals sprouting up under the heavy boulders. “Alright, clear a bit more of this rubble out of the way and start mining that up,” the boss said.

“When do you think this stuff formed here?” the miner asked.

The crew leader shrugged. “Beats me. I would wager that if this patch of crystal had been here before they closed the shaft down originally, they would have extracted it already. Don’t know how it could form here, under all this rubble, but this will maybe earn us a dinner with the king, if we’re lucky.”

A couple of the other miners laughed.

They were quick about moving the stones away and then they set to work chipping the crystals out of the mound.

Lemi, the explosives expert, started making a few bombs, just in case they wanted to try and blow the wall to see if there was anything else out to the side. He set the fuses and pulled his matches out onto his lap as he watched the others collect the pink crystals.

“Is it just me, or does this crystal feel warm?” one of the miners asked.

“Aye, it does a bit, doesn’t it,” another replied.

The crew leader brought a large sack over and set it down in front of the others and they began putting the crystal inside.

Lemi finished his third bomb and was about to set them aside when he felt a sudden gush of wind. He looked up, and suddenly a large creature appeared atop the mound. Lemi raised his hand and shouted out a warning, but it was too late. A long, white claw ripped through one of the miners. The creature had shaggy black fur along its back and shiny, black scales along its underbelly. It snarled and displayed fearsome fangs.

The crew leader turned and was about to call out for the guards, but at that moment another creature seemed to appear out of nothing from the top of the mound. This second creature was brown, with glowing, orange veins running beneath its skin. A pair of fiery wings jutted out from its back and it held a mighty spear in its left hand. Without hesitation, the demon threw the spear through the crew leader’s neck.

Lemi did the only thing he could think of, he lit a bomb and threw it at the demon. The bomb arced over the winged creature and landed on the crystal mound. A moment later, it exploded, sending shards of crystal everywhere. A half-second after the black, scaly monster was obliterated, a large shard of stone pierced Lemi’s chest. The dwarf slumped to the side and looked down at his chest. Blood seeped out around the wound.