by Sam Ferguson
Fortunately, Tu’luh arrive within the hour. It was fast enough that Sylus could appreciate the Ancient’s answering the summons on short notice, but also long enough that he had managed to cool his temper just enough to remember his manners when speaking to the mighty dragon.
Large, strong wings of scarlet beat upon the air as the dragon slowly lowered its massive body to the large, flat platform of stone. Tu’luh’s massive head turned so that his eyes could watch Sylus carefully. It occurred to Sylus that perhaps the dragon had expected this particular conversation.
“You have found the addorite?” Tu’luh asked in a mighty voice that echoed off the mountainside.
Sylus nodded. “We found nearly a ton, but we found something else as well.”
“More lurkers?” Tu’luh asked. Sylus had mentioned the beasts the last time he had spoken with the dragon, but Tu’luh had offered almost no insight.
The dwarf king set his hammer’s head down on the ground and rested his hands atop the upside-down handle. “A demon that commanded fire,” Sylus said. “It killed a great many dwarves, and cavedogs besides. It broke through a solid wall of stone to ambush us.”
Tu’luh nodded slowly. The Ancient emitted a deep, throaty growl and then snorted, shooting wisps of smoke out its nostrils. “Yes, I thought there might be a chance you would meet the demon.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Sylus asked. “I could have prepared better. I could have ordered an army down into the mines. We could have prepared weapons for the demon.”
Tu’luh shook his mighty head. “I was not sure you would encounter it. I believed that the mine would have to be much deeper before it would penetrate into their realm.”
Sylus was taken aback. His throat caught for a moment, but it was soon replaced by hot anger. “Their realm?” he echoed in a sharp yell. “You mean there are more of them?”
Tu’luh grunted and nodded once. “The bowels of Terramyr are a dangerous place. However, the magical fields below Roegudok Hall should suppress the demons. I thought they would be much deeper in this area, for they do not thrive where the Mystinen operates.” Tu’luh let out a short growl. “It appears I have made an error in my calculations. For that, I am truly sorry.”
Sylus felt the heat of rage boil up within him. No longer could he sit behind the tradition of reverence when faced with such incompetence and apparent apathy. Before he had a chance to think about his next words, he let them tumble out of his mouth.
“How dare you tell me you are sorry!” Sylus shouted as he moved toward Tu’luh, his hands ripping the hammer up from the ground and holding it in front of him. “I have fought for you when you asked me to. I defend humans who are too weak to defend themselves from the orcs that invade from the south. I have sent men to die in the mines, when we have more than plenty lining our pockets. What is this greed that drives you to waste the sons of the mountain?”
Tu’luh moved lightning fast. His snout stopped inches in front of Sylus’ face and his hot, fetid breath washed over Sylus. The king stiffened, but he did not shrink away. The dragon snarled, curling his scaled lip up to reveal long, wickedly sharp fangs. Tu’luh growled and then pulled his head up, standing at his full height, towering over the dwarf. His right hand moved out and a black, curved talon rested its point on Sylus’ chest, pressing the skin in ever so slightly.
“You are no son of the mountain,” Tu’luh corrected. “You exist only because we, the Ancients, have formed you. You were created separately from all the other races of dwarves on Terramyr. Icadion gave us permission to create you, so we used the same method we utilized on Kendualdern. We formed you from the rock of Roegudok Hall.” The dragon snorted and flames shot out angrily from its nostrils. “Don’t you for one moment forget that you are sons of the Ancients. The mountain is your home, but we are your creators.”
The talon angled downward, sliding the dangerous point away from Sylus and leaving the back side of the claw pressed against him. Tu’luh then flicked his claw and Sylus was thrown to the ground. The dwarf king landed hard on his back. He heard the talons scrape the stone platform next to him as Tu’luh set his massive foreleg down nearby and scratched the stone.
“You would kill me?” Sylus asked, some of the fight gone from his voice now.
Tu’luh bent his head down and growled. “I would remind you of your place,” Tu’luh said diplomatically. “You are the people of the Ancients. You are chosen to protect the Middle Kingdom. That requires sacrifice on your part, but it is for a greater good.”
Sylus rose to his feet and set his hammer down once more. “Then tell me what greater good is served by mining addorite in the depths below Roegudok Hall. Tell me why my people must sacrifice themselves to demons and giant bugs that would eat us.”
Tu’luh’s tail twitched and thudded against the stone as the dragon considered the dwarf king’s request. Then, he bent down once more, bringing his face closer to Sylus. “The addorite is being used in Valtuu Temple by the Ancients. Hiasyntar’Kulai, the Father of the Ancients, needs the crystal to read the deeper wisdom found within an ancient tome called the Infinium. Without it, the book cannot be read entirely.”
“What is so important about this book?” Sylus asked.
Tu’luh shook his head. “It is not for me to disclose,” he said. “My father has forbidden it. If you want to know, you will have to ask him.”
“Then bring him to me,” Sylus said.
Tu’luh laughed and smoke came out in puffs. “A dwarf king can light the summoning beacon, but he cannot command the Father of the Ancients.”
Sylus sighed. “Then at least tell me how much addorite you need. Once we have enough, then I can close the mines and protect my people.”
Tu’luh came within a few inches of Sylus and turned his head so that his large, right eye peered deeply into Sylus’ eyes. “We need every ounce you can find.”
Sylus stepped back and shook his head. “Then, why not go with us?” Sylus asked. The dwarf king gestured out beyond the large balcony to the valley below. “You have fought beside us beyond the mountain before. I know your strength. You can help us. We can widen the tunnels and—”
“No,” Tu’luh said flatly. “You know I cannot do that. The Mystinen that flows deep below Roegudok Hall is toxic to dragons. I cannot go into the tunnels with you.
“But you can handle addorite?” Sylus asked.
Tu’luh nodded. “The crystal formed below the mountain is not toxic to us, though it would be to humans or elves. Your folk are immune to both the Mystinen and addorite. That is why you were created. There is no other place on Terramyr that has the conditions necessary for addorite to form. Roegudok Hall itself was pushed up from the ground by this unique field of Mystinen.”
“So there is nothing you can do to aid us?” Sylus asked. “You would have me throw all of my folk into the mines, knowing the dangers below?”
Tu’luh nodded. “I assure you, your sacrifice will aid us Ancients in avoiding a much larger danger that will threaten all of Terramyr, including your people.” The dragon’s voice softened. “I understand your anger. Therefore, I will forget your outbursts. However, if you return to your chamber and read from the first book of kings that your great grandfather wrote, you will see that even in his time we Ancients told him we could not tunnel into the bowels of the mountain. Your miners know this as well.”
Sylus relented with a nod. “Can you tell me anything of the demons?”
Tu’luh nodded. “Though the lurkers were something we did not know of, the demons that live within the bowels of Terramyr are something we have seen before. Use mithril arrows…”
“We have,” Sylus said. “My soldiers fired several mithril crossbow bolts into him. It did nothing.”
Tu’luh grunted. “I wasn’t finished,” he said pointedly. “Use mithril arrows that have been coated with a special poison made from addorite and bloodgrass. Listen closely, and I will instruct you how to make it.”
Sylus looked
up to Tu’luh. “I’m listening,” the dwarf king said.
Tu’luh looked into Sylus’ eyes once more and the dwarf went rigid. The dragon formed a telepathic connection with Sylus and showed him how to mix the correct proportions of bloodgrass and addorite to form the poison. Then, when the lesson was done, the dragon broke the connection and pulled away.
Sylus stumbled forward a step, weary from the spell.
“Do you understand?” Tu’luh asked.
Sylus nodded. “I can replicate the process you showed me.”
“Very well. Now listen to my final instructions for the night.”
Sylus nodded and looked up, leaning upon his hammer for support.
“Most of the addorite will be shipped to Valtuu Temple. Ensure that no one takes the crystals from you. Orcs or thieves may try to steal it, mistaking it for treasure. However, not all of it needs to go to Valtuu Temple. Keep ten pounds on hand in the mountain at all times. This will ensure you have enough to create the poison you need to defeat the demons. Then, for every thousand pounds you mine, send one hundred pounds to Bendor’s Cave to the southwest.”
“Why there?” Sylus asked.
“That is not for you to know,” Tu’luh said sharply. “Now go. Do not call me again until you have a sustainable flow of addorite moving to each location.”
Sylus grudgingly bowed his head and the Ancient leapt into the air, stirring up dust and wind with his magnificent wings. Tu’luh let out a mighty roar that shook the very ground Sylus stood upon, and then the dragon turned to the southwest and flew away, disappearing over the top of the mountain.
The dwarf king stood on the large platform for several minutes, wrestling with himself about the fate of his people. Finally, he decided he would try Tu’luh’s poison. If it worked, then Sylus would do as he was told. However, he also set his mind that if the fighting in the mines grew much more costly, then he would collapse the tunnels. If he had to, he would sever Roegudok Hall from the Ancients. Tu’luh himself had already explained that the Ancients could not enter Roegudok Hall due to the Mystinen, so there would not be much they could do to him or his people should they hide inside the safety of their mountain.
CHAPTER 9
Year 3,711 Age of Demigods, Early Autumn.
2nd year of the reign of Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu, 13th King of Roegudok Hall.
Al stood in the throne room, waiting for the others to arrive. He studied the portrait of King Sylus, wondering what it was the ancient king had done to usher in an era of prosperity. How was it that the summer had passed and the autumn had come without so much as a cart-full of gold or silver to show for all of the mining efforts Al had put into place? He had thought the chamber with the lava tube would yield something substantial, but the gold vein was shallow and only a handful of low quality, clouded diamonds had been extracted. What was he missing?
The door to the throne room opened and in walked Alferug.
He was flanked by two other dwarves, but they were not part of the council; these were engineers that Al had summoned himself.
The dwarf king peeled himself away from Sylus’ painting and then went to the engineers. Gimil, an engineer with centuries of experience, pulled a rolled parchment from a wooden cylinder and held it out for Al.
“I drew the plans as you requested. Please let me know if I have made any errors.”
Al took the parchment and unrolled it. He could see Alferug trying to sneak a peek, but Al positioned it away from Alferug. “This is a surprise, Alferug,” the king said.
Alferug nodded and continued on toward the council table.
The king studied the schematics and then glanced to the north wall of the throne room. He then grinned and rolled the parchment tightly and handed it back. “How soon can you start?”
Gimil took the parchment and slid it into the cylinder. “We can start immediately. I have already put the necessary laborers on standby.”
“Excellent,” Al said. “How long will it take?”
Gimil scratched his head. “Oh, not long at all. We have already moved the bulk of the equipment into place. Now it is just a matter of the wall. That was why I wanted to come to you and triple check that you were sure you wanted it done.”
Al nodded. “I am more than sure.” He clapped Gimil on the shoulder and sent him away.
The two engineers exited the throne room just as Kijik, commander of the Home Guard, entered the throne room. Al nodded at Kijik and motioned for him to join Alferug at the council table.
Kijik offered a short nod and walked by quickly. Over the last several months, Kijik had seemed to adapt to his new role quite well. The Home Guard was still smaller than Al wanted, but recruits were in training and the current members of the Home Guard were receiving practice drills. More than that, Kijik had squads of his men rotating in as guards in the mines.
Fortunately, no more incidents had occurred since the time when the five miners were attacked by a yet unknown creature in the depths. Al could only hope that they had destroyed whatever had attacked when they collapsed the lava tube in that chamber where Tareggh and the others had disappeared.
Al made his way to the head of the table and sat down.
Over the next ten minutes, he watched as ten more dwarves came into the throne room. Seven male dwarves and three females. Each of them had advising responsibilities. Some were still new to the council, having only been appointed within the last two weeks, but all of them were extremely motivated and dedicated to their work. Moreover, none of them had served in positions of authority under Threnton’s rule. Al waited until the last of them had seated themselves and then he started the meeting.
“Thank you all for coming, we have a lot to get through in today’s meeting. We’ll start on my left, and then go down the line in order.” Al turned to Alferug and motioned to him. “Alferug, do you have anything to share with the group?”
Alferug stood in his place and addressed the others. “The people are still mixed on the subject of the Ancients. Many welcome the rededication to follow our traditions, others reject it. However, there is peace in Roegudok Hall on this matter. There have been no incidents.” Alferug then sat down.
“Have any dragons returned to Roegudok Hall?” Dvek asked.
Alferug shook his head. “No, not yet. But I believe they will one day come.”
“Have any been spotted in the Middle Kingdom at large?” Dvek pressed.
Alferug shook his head again. “Not that I have been told.” The old counselor turned and directed his gaze to Hento, a middle-aged dwarf who had been appointed as Liaison to King Mathias. “Have you heard anything?”
“No. I have not heard anything on this subject,” Hento said flatly.
“Very well,” Al said. “Let’s continue.”
A sharp impact hit somewhere on the other side of the north wall that caused some of the dwarves to jump in their seats. They turned and looked for the source of the noise, but the dwarf king held up his left hand and then pointed to Benbo. “Please, let’s continue.”
Benbo’s brows shot up but he quickly regained his composure and turned back to the group. “The army is strong. Over the last several weeks, we have sent roughly half of our soldiers out into the Middle Kingdom. They, in conjunction with some of our best engineers, are helping some of the destroyed towns and settlements in the south rebuild. From everything I hear, the effort is going well.”
Hento cut in. “Yes, King Mathias sends his most sincere thanks for the help. He has applauded our efforts, and hopes for more cooperation between our peoples.”
Al nodded and stroked his beard. “Mathias may soon get the chance to help us as well,” he said. Then, he motioned for Benbo to continue.
“That is all, Sire,” Benbo said. “In other news, we have guards patrolling the mines as you ordered a couple months ago. There have been no new incidents.”
Al nodded. “Kijik, anything from the Home Guard?”
Kijik opened his mouth to speak, but
was interrupted by another loud thunking sound that echoed through the chamber.
“Ignore that,” Al said with a half-grin on his face. “It is work I ordered.”
“With respect, perhaps they can wait until we are finished,” Alferug whispered as he leaned in toward Al.
The dwarf king laughed. “No, I asked them to do it.”
Alferug frowned.
Kijik cleared his throat and sat rigid in his chair as he began his report. “We have two hundred recruits in training at this moment,” he said proudly. “Otherwise we are practicing drills, and we are taking rotations with the regular army down in the mines.”
“And your contribution is much appreciated,” Al offered.
“Thank you, Sire,” Kijik replied with a respectful nod.
Dvek didn’t wait to be called upon. He leaned forward, elbows on the table and hands up with fingers entwined a few inches away from his face as he turned and directed his gaze to the king. “I regret to say that we are no better off now than we were at the beginning of the summer. Our crops have not yielded a harvest that will sustain us through the winter. We are still draining our reservoirs for culinary water, as we have found no new wells. This fact in and of itself prevents us from growing cave-rice. Furthermore, our mines are still not producing. We are, for lack of better words, running out of time.”
Al sighed and looked to Mitgar, a young, black-haired dwarf who had been appointed as the Agricultural Advisor. “How much did the harvest yield, exactly?”
Mitgar shook his head and pulled a small, leather-bound book from a pocket and began to read. “We have butchered seven hundred sheep. We have fished fourteen barrels of mountain trout. We have harvested—”
“Mitgar,” Al interrupted. The dwarf looked up from his list with a slack mouth and knit brow. “I don’t need all of the details. Just give me a summary, or your best estimate for how long the food supply will last us.”