The Wealth of Kings Read Online Free Page A

dragon was embossed over the chest. The gauntlets had fierce spikes protruding from the knuckles, and a large ruby was set into the back of each hand. The pauldrons protruded out in a very pronounced way, almost mimicking wings as they tapered down into sharp blades that reminded Al somewhat of the dragon-slayer armor he had seen Master Lepkin wear in recent weeks. In Al’s estimation, all of the armor paled in comparison to the mighty hammer fastened to the wall above the pedestal though.
    “The great weapon, Murskain,” Al whispered reverently. “The hammer by which King Sylus forged the greatest and most prosperous generation of dwarves to ever grace Roegudok Hall.” Al smiled and nodded respectfully to the hammer, as if it still housed a piece of Sylus’ soul. “Would that I knew your secret to wealth now,” Al said as his shoulders slumped and he turned his gaze to the floor. “The tables in the market are bare, save for a few trinkets left over from before the war with Tu’luh. We have no ore, no stores of weapons or armor. My brother squandered all of the wealth left by our father. Whatever remained was consumed by the war.”
    Al sighed and stretched a hand out to the breastplate before him. “That is to say nothing of the loss of kin we have suffered.” Al looked to the helmet, half expecting Sylus to appear and rebuke him. Still, despite his grief, he had known the risk. There had been no other way to stop Tu’luh the Red. The dragon was far beyond reason, and the army he led would have ravaged the entire Middle Kingdom.
    The dwarf king sighed once more and patted the breastplate as he turned and walked toward the golden double doors that separated the stairs from the throne room. Diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires sparkled and shimmered in an arch around the doorway as Al approached. Normally, there would have been a pair of guards before the doors, but Al had sent them away upon returning to Roegudok Hall a few days before so they could help with the burial rites.
    When he left Roegudok Hall sixty years ago, he never would have guessed that he would have become king, and then led the dwarven army to fight off an orc invasion from the south after Ten Forts was conquered. Though, even that particular series of battles paled in comparison to the height of the war when he led the full might of the dwarven army to Fort Drake in an attempt to stop Tu’luh the Red, one of the nastiest dragons to darken the skies of Terramyr, and cull the zombie army that the dragon commanded.
    Al stopped and leaned into the open doorway as the memories came flooding back to him. So many had been lost. Nagar’s Blight had threatened the entire Middle Kingdom, but even in defeating it, Al had lost nearly each and every dwarf soldier that had gone on the campaign with him. Those who had not been slain, had been captured by magic, and then killed when the magic of Nagar’s Blight was destroyed once and for all.
    There were good memories too, though. He thought of his most unlikely of friends, a young teenage boy named Erik who had become the Champion of Truth. There was also Master Lepkin, and his wife Lady Dimwater. Even with how many friends and kin were slain, Al knew that he and his companions had fought on the right side of the war. What they did, they did to protect their freedom and their homelands.
    His only true regret was the fact that he had not stuck around Fort Drake long enough to meet with Hiasyntar’Kulai, the Father of the Ancients. Seeing the massive, golden-scaled dragon land within the Middle Kingdom once more was something akin to a miracle for Al. It had been centuries since the Ancients had been seen in the Middle Kingdom.
    Al sighed and pushed off from the doorway and brought his thoughts back to the mountain and the issues at hand. He had a kingdom to rebuild, and he had to do so during a time of great grief and loss for his people.
    Two days after returning, Al had stood at the pulpit, addressing the