by Sam Ferguson
“I wish you were still here with us,” Al said.
Alferug moved to stand next to Al and put a hand on his shoulder. “Come, we should go inside.”
Al turned and looked to the two guards standing in front of the golden double doors that separated the stairs from the throne room. Diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires sparkled and shimmered as Al approached.
“Open the doors,” Alferug commanded the guards.
“You can’t be here,” one of the guards hissed. “You have been banished!”
Faengoril stepped forward. “Open the doors,” he bellowed. The two guards blanched and snapped into action and pulled one of the great, heavy doors open.
Al could hear laughter and clanking dishes coming from the throne room. “Sounds like we are about to interrupt a party,” he said.
The group entered the throne room and stopped briefly just inside. Al spied his brother sitting lazily in the throne with one leg over the side and his head back over the other side as a female dwarf dropped a bite of meat into his mouth. None of them seemed to notice that they were no longer alone until one of the guards near the throne went up behind Threnton and whispered into his ear. Threnton rose to stand in front of his throne and planted his hands on the large table in front of him.
“What is the meaning of this?” he bellowed.
Al stepped forward and threw his hood back. “Brother!” his voice boomed, echoing off the shiny marble walls.
Threnton blanched and fell back into the throne, but he said nothing. The woman at his side shakily set the platter of meat back on the table and moved to stand behind the throne.
“I see you have plenty of food on your table,” Al noted. He walked over to the platters of fruits and nuts and put a hand on the table. “You call yourself king, yet you would let your brother die in a pit while you allow our kinfolk to starve in their own homes. All the while you sit up here, fat and happy.” Al took a walnut, still in the shell, and threw it at Threnton.
Threnton deftly caught the nut, crushed it in his hand, and let the small pieces fall to the ground. “I am king,” he said. “Seize him, and any who are with him!” Threnton commanded.
The guards moved forward but Al held up a hand. “I am invoking my right to challenge you for the throne,” Al said. “I do so in the presence of the entire council. To deny my challenge is to break the one law that even the king is bound by.” The guards froze in place and looked to Faengoril, who was now holding his axes and staring directly at them.
“Very well,” Threnton said. “You may have the scale. That is all you wanted anyway. Take it and be gone.” Threnton went to undo his belt, as the scale was his belt buckle.
“No,” Al said. “It is too late for that.”
“Take the scale and be gone, you never wanted the throne anyway,” Threnton hissed. He pulled his belt free and tossed it onto the table in front of Al. “Take it and go!”
Al stood firm. “No more will I trade what is right for that which is convenient. Your reign ends today, and I shall shake your dark cloud from our father’s throne.”
Threnton stepped forward and shrugged off the red velvet cloak, revealing round, solid shoulders and thick arms. “You will not find me so easy to dismiss,” Threnton promised. He held a hand out to a guard. “Give me your axe,” he commanded. The guard quickly gave Threnton his axe and backed away.
The council members fanned out around Al, forming a semi-circle near the entrance. Al took his hammer in hand and walked forward. “Nor will I find you so difficult,” Al replied grimly.
Threnton scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. He glanced to the councilors then and threatened, “You will have your reward as soon as I deal with my squabbling brother!” Threnton flipped the table over, flinging the platters and bowls of food through the air and forcing Al to back away quickly or be squished under the table.
The king then lunged forward over the table, sprinting on his short, stout legs toward Al. Al deftly somersaulted to the left, just under Threnton’s swing. As Al came up he lashed out behind him at the back of Threnton’s right leg, but Threnton was quick to jump out of reach.
Al jumped up to his feet and turned to face his brother. Threnton started slowly circling to the left. Al reciprocated for a moment, while letting his brother size him up. Then he suddenly stopped and lurched forward with his hammer. Threnton, caught off guard by the sudden move, back pedaled and threw his axe up to deflect the blow. The hammer connected with the side of the axe blade and a mighty ring echoed through the throne room. Threnton answered the assault by coming in low and straight with the spike atop the axe like a spear thrust. Al turned to the side and sucked his stomach in while pushing out with his left palm, moving the spike far from harm. His right arm swung out fast and hard. The hammer connected with Threnton’s chest and threw the dwarf king back several feet, but he managed to keep his footing.
Threnton reached up and rubbed his chest while glaring at Al. “You’ll have to do better than that,” he said. “It appears life outside the mountain has made you weak.” The dwarf king jumped forward, feinting a swing of the axe just until Al raised his hammer to block, and then he lashed out with a savage front kick, driving the heel of his boot into Al’s ribs.
Al flew back and landed on his side several yards away. Hearing his brother’s footsteps he rolled away after he hit the ground, just narrowly missing his brother’s axe as it came down to bite the stone floor, spewing chips and shards of rock all about. Al pushed up to his knees and managed to block his brother’s next swing with the top of his hammer catching the axe’s shaft, just a few inches above Threnton’s fingers. Al then slid his hammer down, aiming for his brother’s hands, but Threnton pulled away in time, laughing as he took an extra pair of steps back.
“Get up, Al,” Threnton said. “It is too late to grovel on your knees for forgiveness.”
Al rose to his feet and smirked. He cocked his head to the side a bit and studied his brother. Then he loosed his hammer with a furious throw. It spun end over end blindingly fast. Threnton just barely managed to raise his axe to block, but it did little good. The hammer splintered the axe-shaft and slammed into Threnton’s chest. This time the dwarf king flipped over backward to land face down on the stone floor at the base of the throne.
“I would rather fight from my knees than live on my belly,” Al chided.
Threnton growled and pushed himself up. The two locked eyes and each let out a feral yell as they charged toward each other. Their bodies slammed together with such force that each of the onlookers gasped. The two brothers pulled and yanked, each trying to topple the other to the ground first. Al sent a slurry of right punches to Threnton’s left ribs while the dwarf king retaliated by slamming his forehead down into Al’s nose. Al’s head whipped back and a splatter of blood hit the stone floor. His eyes watered, but he didn’t let it slow him down. He sent a strong uppercut into Threnton’s jaw, stealing the dwarf king’s smile and shattering his four front teeth on impact.
The dwarf king came back with a right hook, but Al shot his left forearm up and blocked the punch while he came down with his right hand in a back-fisted strike that connected with Threnton’s bottom lip, tearing it and Al’s knuckles on the jagged stumps of Threnton’s broken teeth.
Threnton staggered back, but he regained his composure quicker than Al had anticipated. He rushed forward, bending low and grabbing Al around the waist. Threnton lifted up while driving his feet forward, ripping Al from the ground and slamming him into the far wall. Al absorbed the hit and steadied himself by grabbing Threnton’s hair with his left hand. He jerked his brother’s head back and slammed his right fist down several times. Almost in rhythm with the punches, Threnton would arch back and slam Al into the wall again and again.
Al poured his entire strength into one last punch. A gash opened under Threnton’s left eye. The dwarf king hollered out and wound back to slam Al into the wall again. This time Al twisted and kicked his legs up to catch the wall as Th
renton tried to slam him. As his feet pressed against the wall Al let his brother expend his energy and then he thrust forward with his legs, using the wall for leverage. Threnton toppled over backward and lost his grip on Al. Al tucked and rolled away, going for his hammer while his brother was dazed. He grabbed his weapon, turned and let fly his mighty hammer.
Threnton smiled and a great flash of white light erupted around him. The hammer blasted into the light and a deafening thunder ripped through the hall. The white light expanded quickly, sending a shockwave through the room and knocking everyone to the ground.
The dwarf king rose to his feet, holding Al’s hammer in his hand. Blood slid down his left cheek and dripped out of his mouth. “I told you I would not be easy to put down,” Threnton growled. He wiped his bloody mouth, smearing the red liquid into his now gray beard.
Al eyed his brother. “Aye, but now you are without any more magic tricks. That spell can only be used once.” He stood up and pointed to his brother’s beard. “I like what you have done with your beard. Gray becomes you.”
“You have the same gray in your hair and beard,” Threnton said. “I am still younger than you.”
“But not wiser,” Al said as he walked forward.
Threnton raised Al’s hammer and lunged forward with a yell. The hammer came down in a great chop, but Al reached up and caught Threnton’s wrist with his left hand. He squeezed his brother’s wrist and twisted it. Threnton fell to his knees, gasping for air. Al ripped his hammer out of Threnton’s hand with his right hand and then held it over his head while still keeping his grip on the dwarf king’s wrist.
“The Stone Shell is not something that you can use in the middle of a fight,” Al said. “It leaves you weak, and vulnerable.” Threnton growled and struck out with a weak punch that barely made Al flinch as he absorbed the hit in his thigh. “Yield the throne,” Al said.
“Never,” Threnton growled. “It’s mine.”
Al took in a breath and shook his head. “Yield the throne, and I will let you live.”
“You would banish me,” Threnton said.
Al nodded. “I would,” he affirmed. “But, I would let you live. Perhaps some future day you will rediscover your honor.”
“May Khefir take you,” Threnton spat. “As long as there is breath in my body, I will not yield the throne. It is mine!”
Al raised his hammer high above his head. “The wrongs you have done cannot go unanswered,” he said solemnly. Threnton looked up to the hammer briefly and then turned his eyes back to Al’s.
“Go on,” he said. “You know what I would do if the situation were reversed.”
Al nodded. Quick as lightning he released his brother’s wrist and came down hard with a left hook to Threnton’s temple. The dwarf king’s head snapped out to the right and Threnton toppled over and landed face-first on the stone.
“I am not you,” Al said. He looked up to the guards and then turned back to the council members. “The king has lost the challenge,” Al declared.
Alferug stepped forward. “The rightful king has won,” he said. The council members each bowed low. Al turned and saw the female drop to her knees as well. Then he looked to the guards. They also went to bow but Al motioned for them to come closer.
“I recognize you,” Al said.
The guards glanced to each other nervously.
“You were the pair of guards standing outside the hall when I first came.”
The guards quickly dropped to their knees. “Mercy, good king, we beg for mercy!” they cried in unison.
Al bridged the gap between him and them in two steps and then held his boot up to the first guard’s face. “I told you that when I was king you would lick the bottom of my boot. I aim to keep all of my promises.” The guard tentatively leaned forward and stuck his tongue out. His face turned sour and he quickly pulled away after licking the boot. “The two of you will now report to Faengoril for reassignment,” Al said.
The guards rose and went to Faengoril, who promptly sent them away with orders to hunt in the forest until they had enough meat to fill a wagon. Then Al went to the overturned table, picked it up with one hand and reached underneath to retrieve the belt with the scale. He turned the scale over in his hand. The golden, concave scale was hard as stone, and brighter than gold.
“I must go,” Al said.
“You are needed here, sire,” Alferug said. “There is much that needs to be done.
Al turned a quizzical look at Alferug. “I must save Erik,” he said bluntly. “It is the only way to save us all.”
“But you don’t have to leave to save Erik,” Faengoril said. “You are king now, and our kinfolk need your guidance now more than ever. I will take the army out to House Lokton. I would personally ensure that Erik lives.”
“And I can take the scale,” Alferug said. “I know the ways of the Ancients as well as you, my king.”
Al nodded. “You know them much better than I,” Al commented. He held out the belt and Alferug came forward to take it. “There is something you should know, if you are going to take this.”
Alferug arched his right brow and looked into Al’s eyes quizzically. “What is it?”
“Erik, the Champion of Truth, is stuck inside Lepkin’s body, and Lepkin is stuck inside Erik’s body. So, although it is Erik who is in peril at Lokton Manor, you will see Lepkin’s body. Lepkin is currently unconscious and lying inside Erik’s body at Valtuu Temple.”
“By the Ancients,” Alferug muttered. “How in Hammenfein did that happen?”
Al sighed. “Marlin could likely explain it better than I. The important thing though, is that Erik and Lepkin must be changed back to their natural bodies. This scale is the only artifact I know of that is capable of performing such magic.”
“I will get him to the temple alive,” Faengoril swore.
“And I will see order restored to your friends,” Alferug promised. “You should remain here and set things right for our kin.”
Al nodded. “When order is restored, I will come to the temple,” he promised.
Alferug smiled. “I expected nothing less. Reopen the mines, acquire food, and send word to King Mathias that a new day is dawning over Roegudok Hall. I suspect King Mathias may have a request of you before you may join us at the temple, but I will expect to see you soon.”
“As soon as I can,” Al said. He turned to Faengoril. “Take the cavedogs with you,” he said.
“What of our infantry?” Faengoril asked.
Al shook his head. “They would slow your pace. I want our forces to be there as swiftly as possible. Take every cavedog we have and make your journey in haste.” Al then turned to Alferug. “Also, I want you to take the sacred banner.”
“My king?” Alferug asked.
“Erik will need it,” he explained.
“But I thought you said he had already made the transformation?” Alferug asked.
Al nodded. “He did, but I don’t think he will be able to do it again without help.”
Alferug nodded. “As you command. I will carry it personally.”
Al nodded with a grateful smile and then turned back to Faengoril. “King Mathias may likely ask tribute of our infantry forces, so I will march to Drakei Glazei with a company after I have resolved the issues here.”
“What of him?” Faengoril asked as he pointed down to Threnton.
Al looked down upon his unconscious brother. A small pool of blood had gathered around his smooshed face. “The Stone Shell is extremely draining. He will sleep for at least a couple of days. I will have him taken to the mountains and released. Let him live out his days as he chooses, away from Roegudok Hall and never to return.”
Faengoril nodded once.
Brinon and Timmin stepped forward. “We can take him,” they said.
“Take a bag of food for him,” Al said. “Give him a knife, but nothing else. Take him into the mountains and then leave him before he wakes. Just make sure he is left in a safe place, so no beast
or vagabond can get to him.”
“As you command,” Timmin said.
“Farewell, Threnton,” Al said as he turned back to his brother. “I wish you a long life, but so help me, I do hope we shall never meet again.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What in the four hells is that?” Braun shouted above the din of battle. Men pressed past him and clashing weapons and shields sounded all around.
Gorin dropped two more enemies with one swing of his hammer and then turned around, briefly standing on his toes to look over the men. “It’s a firedrake,” he said. “Come!” The gargantuan man tucked his hammer behind him and ran through the men, roughly shoving them aside and clearing a path. “Lepkin, you are needed at the rear!” Gorin shouted.
Braun picked and weaved his way through the throng, grabbing Erik by the shoulder. “We need you in the back,” he shouted.
Erik turned and his eyes went wide.
“Is that the one you saw?” Braun asked as he pulled him along after Gorin.
“No,” Erik said. “This is much smaller, like a cat compared to a horse.”
Braun shrugged. “Either way, we need that sword of yours!” They ran hard and fast. The closer they got to the rear the more shouting they could hear. The men’s faces turned from aggressive determination to fright. A beast like this had never been faced before on Lokton lands.
A pair of bodies flew up into the sky, one aflame and flailing about in agony. The firedrake spun and lashed out with its forked tail, skewering another soldier through the chest and flinging his body aside. Soldiers ran away, clearing a wide swath around the beast. Its shiny scales dripped with blood. Plumes of smoke emanated out from its narrow nostrils above a snout filled with fangs as large as knives. The beast emitted a low growl and coiled its tail around its rear, not unlike a cat as it crouches down before springing upon its prey.
