The Wealth of Kings

by Sam Ferguson

  Mitgar closed his mouth and nodded. His eyes scanned over the pages and he moved his fingers in the air next to the book as he quickly mumbled. Then he looked up to Al and said, “Two and a half months, perhaps three.”

  A heavy silence fell over the table. No one had to spell it out for any of them. Roegudok Hall wouldn’t last through the winter. In fact, the food would run out before winter arrived. Al tapped a finger on the table and then skipped over to Hento with an arched brow.

  “Hento, what of aid for Roegudok Hall? What can King Mathias spare?”

  Hento rose to his feet, but he did not look anyone in the eye. He kept his gaze down to the top of the table. “Senator Mickelson informed me that the king has no stores to spare.”

  “How is that possible?” Al asked. “We have sent our own people out to help rebuild.” Al shook his head and pounded an angry fist. Hento jumped nervously and glanced at the king’s hand before looking away again. “We sacrificed our lives in the war with Tu’luh and the orcs! How can he abandon us now in our time of need?”

  Hento shook his head. “Mickelson said that the king has used what stores he had to resupply Fort Drake, various other military encampments, and also the towns in the south.” Hento clasped his hands in front of his waist to keep them from shaking from his nerves, but he could barely look in Al’s direction before his voice cracked. “Mickelson said that Mathias has been able to feed our kin who are helping rebuild, but he has nothing extra to send to Roegudok Hall. I do have other connections. Let me speak with them. I am sure we can come to an arrangement. Perhaps we can offer to barter with credit. Roegudok Hall has never defaulted on any of its financial obligations.”

  “Actually, that is not entirely accurate, Hento,” Dvek cut in. He stood again and address Al. “It won’t do any good to look to other merchants. We failed to pay the Greenband in full. They have levied sanctions against us. Unless the king offers us food, we have no other options other than continuing to expand our mines and hope they start producing. Even if the Greenband wasn’t levying sanctions against us, it appears that the other merchant guilds have kept a close hold on their goods, especially food. I would say that the guilds are hiding large stores of food so they can drive prices up by creating scarcity.”

  Al nodded. “I would agree, Dvek.”

  Benbo leaned forward, his mouth opening to say something, but then he glanced around the room and closed his mouth, furrowing his brow and leaning back in his chair.

  “Don’t be shy, Benbo,” Al said. “If you have something to say, then come out with it.”

  Benbo shook his head. “No, it was an irrational idea, Sire. It isn’t worth discussing.”

  “Too late now, Benbo. My curiosity is piqued and I must know what it was.”

  Benbo hesitated, and then leaned forward and turned toward Al. “I thought, only for a moment before my senses came to me, that perhaps we could take a group of cavedog riders and…”

  Al laughed as Benbo’s words faded into the air and the commander of the army made a shrugging gesture. Benbo blushed and sat back in his chair, obviously embarrassed to have the thought out for all to hear. “I like your tenacity,” Al said. “However, it would do us little good to become a band of brigands and thieves.”

  “If the merchants withhold their goods only for the sake of driving up prices, it may call for some sort of measured response,” Alferug said.

  Al shook his head. “No, we will not police the merchants in the Middle Kingdom. We will gain nothing by stealing from them and giving it to our folk. It would destroy relations with Mathias.”

  “I could propose the idea to Mickelson that we could help search for the rumored stores,” Hento said.

  Al shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t work much better. We may as well tell King Mathias that he is not running his kingdom properly and offer to take it off his hands.” Al sighed. “No, we will find another way. If trade is what is needed, then let us discuss what we can produce.” Al pointed to Akmei, a beautiful, young, green eyed dwarf who had recently been appointed as the Mining Advisor. “Do we have anything?”

  Akmei stood and swung her long, red braid of hair up and over her shoulder. “No, my king. We have found a lot of that bloodgrass, but no new gems or ore sources, precious or otherwise. It is only a matter of time though.”

  Al smiled as she sat down. He liked her optimism as much as her beauty. He let his eyes linger upon her face for a moment longer before nodding and turning to Kangas, who oversaw textile operations.

  Kangas was an older gentleman, finely dressed in a sleek long coat over a neatly pressed red shirt. He reached up to shift the glasses on his nose and then smoothed his silvery beard. “As a result of butchering all of the sheep that Mitgar spoke of, we have more than enough wool to produce many goods. We are currently weaving large rugs and tapestries of a similar pattern and quality as those we sold out in the human cities before trade relations were severed by King Threnton. Additionally, we are holding much of our supply in reserve so we can take orders from without the mountain.”

  “Estimated total value?” Al asked.

  Kangas shrugged. “Hard to say until we have used our supply of wool.” The dwarf cleared his throat and hummed for a moment as he took in a deep breath and narrowed his eyes on the table as he thought. “I should say we have currently an inventory worth several hundred gold crowns. The tapestries and carpets currently being made would add to that, and the custom orders could range anywhere from a few hundred silver pieces, to several hundred gold, depending on what kind of orders are received.”

  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.

  CHAPTER 10

  Year 3,711 Age of Demigods, Early Autumn.
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  2nd year of the reign of Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu, 13th 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.”