Prince of Malorn (Annals of Alasia Book 3)

by Annie Douglass Lima

  The Lowlander beamed. “I thought you would. It’s a win-win situation.” He handed over the little piece of gold and placed a hand protectively on the goat’s head. “I’ll take good care of her, and she’ll love her new career in my cheese operation. Thank you very much.” He draped the strings of milk pouches across his shoulders and then reached out a hand to clasp theirs in the way Lowlanders did. But Ernth and the others drew back uncomfortably. They did business with Lowlanders when they had to, but none of them wanted unnecessary physical contact, even with one who had treated them decently.

  The man withdrew his hand. “Sorry, just an old habit. I forgot you Mountain Folk don’t shake hands. Well, I’ll say farewell and go build me a pen for my goat now. Thanks again.”

  “Do you think it will work?” Thorst wondered as they headed back to camp. “What if the people at the gold office do make us pay those taxes?”

  “It’s still a better deal than we’d hoped for,” Ernth’s mother pointed out. “If the pebble is really worth that much, they could take a little of the money and we’d still have a lot more than one goat is probably worth.”

  Two days later, Ernth and his family made camp with their horses and goats among some trees just outside the town of Zumin’s Creek. Having been here a couple of times before, Ernth knew that the largest of the hard wooden buildings was the one that sold the supplies they wanted, but none of the family had any idea which building was the one in which people traded money for gold.

  “I suppose we can ask someone,” Charr suggested dubiously as they unloaded the horses. She stepped forward to peer through the trees at the town. “There seem to be plenty of people around.”

  “And announce to all the Lowlanders that we’re carrying gold?” her husband Thont demanded. “We might as well walk out there calling for people to come and rob us.”

  “It would be safer if the whole family goes,” Father suggested. “One of us can stay here to keep an eye on the children, and the rest of us will bring our spears and go down there together. Surely no Lowlander would try to rob ten armed men and women.”

  “If ten of us go wandering through the town with spears, they’ll probably think we’re trying to attack or rob them,” Ernth’s grandmother pointed out. “Then they’ll take up their own weapons against us.”

  “Maybe one of us should go down alone and find out where the gold office is first,” Ernth suggested. “Then he or she can come back and tell the rest, and we’ll all go straight there as quickly as we can, trade the gold for money, and leave right away. If it looks like people might be thinking of stealing from us, we can hide some of the money in the trees here and there, and meanwhile one or two of us will hurry back down to buy the things we need. Then we can all leave the area.”

  No one could think of a better plan. Since the idea had been Ernth’s, the others unanimously voted to send him as the initial scout in spite of his objections.

  So Ernth mounted Hungry and rode down the main street of Zumin’s Creek, clutching his spear and peering about among the buildings for possible danger. He hadn’t intended to volunteer. Next time I’ll keep my mouth shut and let someone else decide what we should do and get picked for it. Of course, this way he could tell his niece and nephew scary stories about what it was like to wander alone through a Lowlander town, and no one would be able to accuse him of exaggerating.

  “Where is the gold office?” he demanded of a young boy who stood staring at him open-mouthed from beside the road. The boy’s eyes widened and he turned and darted into a nearby building, slamming the door behind him.

  Ernth urged his horse on down the suddenly empty street, aware of faces staring at him from windows and people disappearing around corners as he approached. Why were Lowlanders so suspicious? They weren’t the ones who had reason to be nervous.

  Rounding a corner, he came upon a woman leading a young child by the hand. They stopped short when they saw him, and the woman gasped and leaped to stand protectively in front of her daughter. “Go away!” she shrieked, staring up at him and the spear he held. “Don’t hurt us!”

  Ernth scowled. “Where is the gold office?”

  The woman paused, apparently caught off guard. “The what?”

  “The gold office. The place where miners come to exchange gold for money.”

  “Oh.” Now the woman looked confused, as though she couldn’t understand why he could possibly want to know such a thing. “Well, it’s right there, of course.” She pointed across the street to his left.

  Ernth turned, but he saw nothing to indicate which of the wooden buildings she was talking about. “Right where?”

  “Right there. It’s the one that says Gold Office above the door.” Her tone of voice suggested that he was either blind or stupid for not noticing this.

  Ernth looked at the doors on the buildings in the direction she was indicating. Above one of them he saw a white board with black markings on it. “That one?”

  “Yes.” She was edging away, pulling the little girl with her.

  Ernth took note of the building’s location and hurried Hungry away, leaving town by the most direct route possible.

  “I found it,” he reported when he was safely surrounded by his family once again. “I barely survived, though,” he added for the children’s benefit. “Everyone down there is dangerous and angry-looking.”

  Thisti’s eyes widened. “Did you have to fight them off?”

  “Only a few. Most of them ran away when I brandished my spear.”

  Her father, Thont, raised an eyebrow at Ernth. “I hope you’re exaggerating. Otherwise they could be gathering their forces right now to attack us.”

  Ernth couldn’t think of an appropriate answer, so he just shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.” He would feel much better returning to town with his family around him, and better still when they had done their business and could leave.

  Grandfather and Aunt Silanth stayed back among the trees with the three children and the animals, Thisti crying because she wasn’t allowed to come. The rest of them picked up their spears, mounted their horses, and made their way down the hill and into town.

  This time, Lowlanders not only peered at them from windows as the family went by, they jerked the window covers shut. Not only did they back away around corners, they turned tail and ran. It would have been funny if the whole family hadn’t been so nervous. What if the townsfolk gathered together to attack them? If only we can get our money and supplies and get out of here before anything happens.

  They dismounted at the door of the gold office and paused while Thorst fumbled with the metal handle. But finally he got it open and they all crowded in, leaving their horses to wait outside.

  Ernth stared around in distaste. The insides of buildings always gave him an uncomfortable feeling. They were so hard and square and artificial, dimly lit and full of Lowlander objects he couldn’t identify or imagine a use for. This one had metal bars across the windows, perhaps to stop people from climbing in and stealing the gold.

  The Lowlander sitting at the other end of the room shot to his feet as the family entered. “Wha- wha- what do you want?” he gasped, backing against the far wall and staring at their spears. His hand flew to the hilt of a dagger in his belt, but he seemed to think better of drawing it. “All the money and the gold are kept locked in the safe, and only the manager has the key, and he won’t be in until tomorrow morning,” the man babbled, his eyes darting back and forth as though looking for a way of escape. “You’ll get nothing from me. If you try anything, I’ll call for help, and a hundred armed men will surround the building in a moment!”

  Ernth’s father snorted in contempt. “Don’t be stupid, Lowlander. We aren’t here to rob you. We have a piece of gold we want to exchange for money.”

  The man’s brows lowered suspiciously. “Is that all? Then why are there so many of you, and why are you all armed?”

  “So no one will try to rob us, of course,” Ernth told him scornfully. Shouldn�
�t that have been obvious?

  “And to make sure you don’t try to cheat us,” Charr added, and he could tell his sister was proud of herself for thinking that up on the spur of the moment. “We know exactly how much money we’re supposed to get for our gold, so don’t think you’ll get away with giving us any less.”

  The Lowlander seemed to relax a little. “I didn’t know Mountain Folk ever did any mining. I suppose you probably would know all the best places to dig for gold, though, come to think of it. Well, all right, let me see your nugget, and I’ll check its weight and purity and tell you what it’s worth. Just keep those spears to yourself, all right?”

  Uncle Korth took out the shiny pebble and placed it on the structure the man was standing behind. The Lowlander picked it up with a small metal implement and examined it closely, turning it this way and that in the light from the window. Then he frowned, moved closer to the window, and peered at it again.

  The family watched in silence, shifting their bare feet on the hard, unnaturally smooth floor. The Lowlander looked up at them, his expression troubled, and seemed about to say something, then thought better of it. He set the gold down again and took a tiny knife with a narrow blade from some compartment out of sight. Carefully, he drew the knife across the little pebble as though trying to cut it in half, and frowned again when it remained unbroken.

  “What are you doing?” Ernth demanded. “You’d better not damage our gold.”

  The man glanced up at him nervously. “I’m afraid we have a little problem here.”

  “Problem? What problem?” demanded Thorst. “Tell us how much the gold is worth and give us our money.”

  “That’s the problem.” The man licked his lips. “It isn’t worth anything, because it’s not actually gold.”

  There was a stunned silence. “What do you mean, it’s not gold?” exclaimed Charr, the first to find her voice. “Of course it’s gold; it’s shiny and yellowish. What else could it be?”

  “It’s a mineral called pyrite,” the man explained. “Also known as fool’s gold. Similar in appearance to real gold, but a little paler and more brassy-looking. See these flat faces?” He pointed to the little pebble, and they all leaned close for a better view, but there was nothing on it that looked like a face. “Gold nuggets are more rounded; pyrite crystals often form octahedrons with striated faces like this.”

  The family looked at each other, uncomprehending.

  “And gold is softer than pyrite,” the man continued, warming to his subject. “It scratches easily with a steel blade. Pyrite is harder than steel, so a knife won’t scratch it, which was what I was just testing. But if this is pyrite, it will be able to scratch the knife. Look.” He rubbed a pointy part of the pebble along the side of the knife blade, and Ernth could see that it did indeed leave a faint scratch mark on the metal.

  “And one more thing,” the man told them, seeming to forget his nervousness in the pleasure of expounding on his favorite subject. “Gold doesn’t smell, but pyrite does have a faint odor, especially when you rub it on something hard. See?” He rubbed the nugget vigorously back and forth on the wooden surface before him and held it out for their inspection. Ernth sniffed and wrinkled his nose, his family members crowding around him to smell for themselves.

  “It’s like rotten eggs,” Charr exclaimed, dismayed.

  “Yes. So, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid what you’ve got here is nothing more than a shiny rock,” the Lowlander told them, handing it back to Uncle Korth. “Trust me, if it was worth anything, I’d buy it from you. I get paid partly on commission, after all, but we have no use for anything except actual gold.”

  Ernth slammed his fist down on the wood. “He cheated us! That Lowlander took our goat and our milk and gave us nothing but a worthless pebble!”

  His father’s jaw clenched in anger. “Fool’s gold, indeed. We were fools to believe we could trust a Lowlander.”

  Chapter 3

  Ernth was still simmering with anger four days later as he helped his sister and her husband and children guide their remaining goats back home after a drizzly day at pasture. The family had found a good campsite in a valley by a creek, but the best grazing was on the higher slopes where the grass grew thick and lush. So the five of them had spent the day up there with the animals, little Sench and Thisti picking wildflowers and turning somersaults in the wet grass while the three adults kept an eye on the flock from under their deerskin hoods.

  They had returned to the mining camp of Nugget to confront the man who had cheated them, but he was nowhere to be found. His neighbors claimed that he had left early in the morning the day after he got the goat, but nobody seemed to know – or was willing to tell – where he was now. And so Ernth and his family had left, fuming and furious but helpless to do anything about it.

  Just the way it usually works when we deal with Lowlanders, Ernth reflected angrily as they returned to camp, surrounded by bleating goats eager to be milked. He stuck his free hand into his pocket and clenched his fist around the crumpled trash inside. They take advantage of us, and there’s nothing we can do about it.

  His aunt and uncle were cooking that evening. Ernth’s mouth watered at the savory aroma of fish baking in the coals at one end of the large fire and lumjum cakes frying in a pan over the other. He helped herd the goats into the tight, muddy enclosure formed by the family’s circle of tents where his parents were already waiting to start the milking.

  At that moment Thorst burst through the grove of trees just beyond the campsite, startling the horses that grazed nearby. “Someone’s coming this way,” he panted, dropping the basket of berries he had been gathering and adjusting his grip on his spear.

  Everyone looked up from their work, alarmed. “A Lowlander?” Ernth demanded, even though it was obvious from his cousin’s bearing.

  “Two Lowlanders,” Thorst confirmed, breathless.

  Ernth scrambled out of the enclosure and snatched up his own spear, which he had set down just outside. “I’ll come with you to stop them.” He almost hoped the strangers would attack so they would have an excuse to defend themselves. Grandmother insisted it was a bad idea to harm Lowlanders without good cause – you never knew if their friends or families might try to avenge them – but perhaps there would be good cause today. Ernth was ready to exact revenge on someone for the loss of their goat and their pride four days ago.

  “I’m coming too,” announced little Thisti, brandishing the stick she liked to pretend was a spear.

  “No, you’re not,” her father snapped. “Stay here with your brother while we deal with this.”

  The girl stomped her foot and sulked as Grandfather seized her hand. “Come and help with the milking, Thisti. You’ll protect the family when you’re a little older.”

  Spears at the ready, Ernth and most of the others scrambled through the trees to where they could see up to the top of the ridge, stopping just before they came out into the open so the strangers wouldn’t catch sight of them yet.

  There were indeed two Lowlanders approaching, Ernth saw. They were both riding mules, with a third mule ambling along behind. The man in the lead looked younger than the other one, who wore a dark beard and a sour expression. Both were dressed in the usual flimsy, colorful Lowlander clothing. The younger one had a sheathed sword hanging from his belt and a bow strapped behind his saddle, though Ernth could see it was too light to bring down anything much bigger than a rabbit. A hunting tool, then, not a weapon. The men were talking loudly as they rode, probably not realizing how far their voices carried in the quiet evening air.

  “Another valley, another mountain beyond. It never ends,” grumbled the older man.

  But the younger one didn’t seem to be listening. “Do you smell that?” he demanded.

  “What?” The older one sniffed the air. “Wet mule.”

  “Anything else?”

  He sniffed again. “Wet grass?”

  A puff of breeze ruffled the leaves around them, and both Lowlanders sni
ffed once more. “Wood smoke!” the young man exclaimed excitedly, scanning the valley below. “Someone’s got a campfire going, even in this damp weather, and they’re cooking something on it. I think we’ve finally found the Mountain Folk!”

  Ernth frowned. Around him, his family members gripped their spears a little tighter. Whatever reason these Lowlanders had for trying to find them, it couldn’t be good. But as long as there were only two of them, they wouldn’t pose much of a threat.

  The young man in front pointed, turning back to make sure his companion was paying attention. “Look, I see the smoke over there. Their village must be just beyond those trees. Come on!” He urged his mule forward, but the slope was steep, and the animals had to pick their way carefully over the slippery grass.

  Ernth watched their progress. The young man was obviously eager, the older one reluctant. He was grumbling once again. “I don’t know why your Highness is in such a hurry. We’ve waited this long; after three weeks of travel it’s no use breaking our necks trying to get there a few moments sooner.” But his companion ignored him.

  “Ready?” whispered Uncle Korth as the two drew near. They all nodded, and at Korth’s gesture, their little group stepped out of the trees, moving swiftly to surround the Lowlanders.

  The mules, who had obviously caught their scent earlier, were not surprised. But both men started, the older one so violently that he nearly lurched out of his saddle. His face showed genuine fear as he jerked back on the reins, forcing his mount to a halt. But the young man, his surprise quickly dissolving into excitement, leaped to the ground.

  “Hello, there!” he exclaimed, spinning to include all of them in his greeting. “You must be Mountain Folk. I’m Korram, Prince of Malorn.” He held out a hand, displaying a sparkly trinket attached to one finger. “I’ve come a long way to find you.”