The Wealth of Kings

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The Wealth of Kings Page 15

by Sam Ferguson


  “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 deal
t 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.

  “Come on, Al, don’t make this harder than it has to be,” Threnton teased.

  Before Al could think of a plan of action, the human circled out around the bed in a wide arc, maintaining a good distance between them as his hands weaved another spell in front of him. Al jumped up to his feet and charged the human.

  Another sphere shot out. This time, Al was unable to dodge it entirely. It snagged his left arm and then it turned silver as the orb seemed to freeze in place. Al’s arm was stuck. His skin was compressed and held still, but it wasn’t very painful. Al tugged against the spell, but couldn’t free his arm.

  “Don’t waste your time,” Threnton said. “It’s pointless to struggle now.”

  The human prepared another spell. Al raised his hammer and threw it. The weapon spun end over end, flying in Threnton’s direction. The other dwarf easily ducked under the hammer. The weapon flew into the door and smashed heavily into it before falling to the floor.

  Then a flash of gold enveloped Al’s body from his neck to his toes and started to squeeze him. Al struggled to breathe. The pressure came in from all sides. He was now trapped. He moved to yell, but a red orb hit him in the neck, and his voice was taken from him. Any time Al opened his mouth to call for help, a barely audible wheeze was all that came out.

  “I need your face free so I can study it a moment,” the human said as he moved in close to Al. “Then, when I am done, we can finish this nasty business and you will be free.”

  Threnton moved around and laughed at Al. “By free, he means dead, just in case that wasn’t clear.”

  Al tried to move, tried to yell at his brother, but there was nothing he could do. The spell held him fast, suspended in the air and entirely helpless. The human moved in and placed his fingers on Al’s forehead. He ducked in and around his own arm, studying Al’s face for several moments.

  Then, the human turned and muttered something Al didn’t understand.

  Before Al’s very eyes, Threnton turned into an exact physical copy of Al. Everything was identical, down to the last hair.

  “Marvelous, isn’t it?” Threnton asked as he spun for Al to see. “This way, I can rule from the throne and none of them will need to know it is me. Soon, I will bring back the dwarves that are loyal to me. Eventually I will remove the mask, of course, but by then it will be too late to stop me. Your rule is over.”

  Threnton then turned to the human. “Go and get the bodies. We can’t risk them being seen.”

  The human quickly moved out of Al’s limited field of vision. When he returned, he was dragging the two guards along the floor. He took them out to the balcony through the tunnel.

  “Don’t worry,” Threnton told Al. “We will take you out to join them next.”

  Al couldn’t believe it. Everything he had been through with Erik and Master Lepkin. Fighting dragons, orcs, and wizards, and now he was outwitted by his brother. His mind flashed back to the fight they had had in the throne room.

  Threnton came in close. “I bet you are wishing you had killed me when you had the chance,” he whispered. “That is where we differ, brother,” Threnton continued. He pulled a dagger and moved to stab Al, but a knock came at the door.

  “Sire, are you alright?”

  Al knew the voice at once. Judging from the scowl on Threnton’s face, he had recognized it also.

  “I am fine, Alferug, go away.”

  Al smiled. He couldn’t scream, but his mouth still could move. He gathered as much spittle as he could and then he launched it directly into Threnton’s face.

  “Gargh!” Threnton yelled as he stepped back and wiped the liquid from his face.

  “My king?!” Alferug shouted from the other side of the door.

  “I’m fine!” Threnton shouted, but it was too late. The door was already opening.

  Threnton rushed in, sheathing his dagger and reaching out to push Al back toward the bed. Al tried to struggle, but the spell held fast.

  He landed hard, but with his face pointed under the bed. He couldn’t warn Alferug, and Alferug was too late to see him.

  “Forgive me, my king, I thought I heard you struggling.” Alferug came in through the door and Al could see his blue leather shoes. They took three steps into the room. “Are you certain everything is alright?”

  “I am fine,” Threnton said, impersonating Al’s voice rather well.

  “I see,” Alferug said. “I came because I wanted to discuss tomorrow’s meeting.”

  “Let’s talk about it in the morning,” Threnton said.

  “Of course,” Alferug said. His feet turned and Al felt fear grip his soul. If Alferug left the chamber without discovering the danger, then all was lost. Al summoned all of his streng
th to shout, but nothing happened. He remained trapped in the spell. He watched helplessly as Alferug walked back toward the doorway.

  Then the blue shoes stopped. After a moment, Al saw a hand reach down and pick up the hammer he had thrown. Al smiled. There was yet hope. Alferug knew how important the hammer was to Al. He would know that it would never be cast onto the floor.

  “My king,” Alferug started. “It appears you dropped your hammer. Shall I place it in its box?” Alferug asked.

  “That isn’t necessary, I’ll do it,” Threnton said.

  Al could hear Threnton moving around the bed.

  “It’s alright,” Alferug said. “I don’t mind. Tell me, is the box still in the desk drawer?”

  Threnton’s footsteps stopped. “As you say,” he replied.

  Alferug’s feet turned to point back into the room. They took two steps and then there was a whoosh through the air. A second later there was a heavy thump. Threnton fell to the ground, moaning.

  Alferug rushed in, stepping heavily.

  “Sire!” he shouted as he rounded the bed and came to Al.

  Al felt himself turning over. He tried to warn Alferug about the human, but his voice still didn’t work. Alferug frowned as Al tried to work his mouth. The advisor glanced out to Threnton and shook his head. “If not for your hammer, I wouldn’t have suspected anything. This is some dark magic indeed!” Alferug worked his hands quickly, trying to tug at the solidified silver globs holding Al in place.

  Alferug then went for his mithril dagger. “Hold still,” he whispered. The advisor then stabbed into the material and worked his knife. To Al’s surprise, the tactic worked. Alferug cut away hunks of the silvery stuff only to have each piece sizzle and evaporate as it was separated. Alferug worked at Al’s right arm first, then his left.

  As soon as Al had his hands free, he reached for the dagger and pulled it out of Alferug’s hands. Al’s left hand went up to his throat, feeling for where the red gob had struck him. He found a lip under the material and then plunged the flat of the knife in, sliding the side between his skin and the spell that sealed his voice.

 

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