Douglas Niles - The Heir of Kayolin

3. The activities of the New Regime, including the celebrations associated with the coronation, and the imminent campaign against the horax shall be funded through a selective tax. A one-hundred-steel surcharge is hereby established on the activities of any hill dwarf seeking to do business in Kayolin. Any dwarf of any race who desires to conduct business beyond the gates of our nation shall pay a ten percent tariff, with value to be established by the Director of Loyalty and Enforcement, on any goods transported into or out of Kayolin. Finally, the small communities of Theiwar, Klar, and Daewar who live comfortably with the safety of our mountain fastness, shall each furnish one thousand steel from each neighborhood quarter as a small token of gratitude for the protection provided them by the Hylar and Daergar might that is the backbone of Kayolin’s greatness.

Let the words of the king be inscribed into the scrollstones! From this day forth, the decree of Regar Smashfingers is the law of Kayolin!

So your father’s letter warned you not to come home, which is why you’re going home?” Gretchan Pax said.

Brandon Bluestone, walking along at her side, merely grunted in acknowledgment. An eagle screeched overhead, banking across the valley, soaring between the mountain peaks. The sun shone brightly, penetrating even the dense canopy of the pine forest. Yet the stubborn dwarf plodded along in a cloud of gloom, glowering as if he were marching toward a battle or some other dolorous occasion.

“I just want to make sure I understand your logic-or should I say, lack thereof,” she continued as if she didn’t mind talking to herself. “I mean, so that I can write it down accurately the next time I have a chance to work on my journals.”

“You don’t have to understand it!” Brandon Bluestone retorted. “And while we’re reminding ourselves of things we already know, you didn’t have to come along with me either.”

“Oh, but I did,” she replied with that cheerfulness that Brandon could find so Reorx-cursed annoying. “You know I’ve wanted to see Kayolin all my life. I spent a year with you in Pax Tharkas asking you to take me there. Which you wouldn’t do until you got a message from your father warning you to stay away from the place. So now you’re taking me to Kayolin.”

“ I’m going to Kayolin,” he growled. “You happen to be tagging along.”

“Call it what you will,” she said, unabashed. “Anyway, we should get our first view of the gate today, don’t you think?”

He growled in exasperation. “Look, you read my father’s letter as well as I did. Not only does the governor plan to crown himself a king, but he’s created a League of Enforcers to impose his will on the people of Kayolin. Knowing Regar Smashfingers like I do, I’m certain that he’s using those agents to go after those who disapprove of him. And chief among those people will be my father. I won’t be surprised to find that he’s already been thrown into some royal dungeon … or worse,” he concluded grimly.

She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it affectionately. Again, he grunted, somewhat more pleasantly. For some time they simply walked together, striding upward along the winding mountain road. Gretchan’s large black dog, Kondike, padded eagerly at her side. In her other hand she held the long, smooth staff, capped with the tiny anvil, that was her most prized possession. She was a very beautiful dwarf maid, with hair falling in long blonde curls around her shoulders and upper back. Her blue eyes sparkled with vitality, and her full form curved the front of her tunic in a way that still caught Brandon’s eye whenever he looked at her, which he did very frequently.

But for the time being, he was lost in his own thoughts, worries, and fears.

Brandon was a handsome and strapping dwarf with broad shoulders, and flowing brown hair and beard. He was dressed in sturdy workman’s clothes, leather trousers and boots that were worn from long use but still served to protect his feet. A large backpack straddled his shoulders, and a keen, silver-bladed axe swung from a strap at his belt.

The scent of the pines surrounded them, brushing their skin in the cool breeze that blew down from the heights of the Garnet Mountains. The smell brought a strong wave of nostalgic memories to Brandon, who had spent much of his life hunting, prospecting, and exploring the peaks and valleys of that majestic range.

Yet as he walked, every one of those memories seemed imperiled by the present, and he felt himself borne down again by the weight of the responsibility that had compelled him to return.

“You’re thinking about that proclamation that your father included with his letter again, aren’t you?” Gretchan asked softly.

Brandon nodded. He had shown her the letter, which included a copy of Regar Smashfingers’s proclamation of kingship. “I don’t know if the king is behind my exile, but the fact that he promoted Lord Heelspur to head of his League of Enforcers makes me think so. It was Heelspur who was behind my brother’s murder, and I had to leave Kayolin because I accused him of the crime, remember? It’s pretty clear which side the king came down on.”

“What about all that stuff about the horax? Do you think the king is making it up?”

“Who knows? I mean, every Kayolin dwarf knows about the horax. Even with the walls and barricades and such, one or two of the bugs still make their way into the sublevels once in a while. They’re damned nasty, and if there ever was to be a real infestation of them, I think it could be pretty bad. But it just seems convenient to have them turning into a widespread menace all of a sudden, just when Regar Smashfingers is looking for an excuse to seize even more power than he already had.”

She let go of his hand and almost skipped as they came around a bend in the winding road. A tall mountain came into view again, its sturdy shoulders mantled in white snow. The gentle, rocky ridges, far about the timberline, stood out in such crystalline relief that it seemed as though they could see every rock, niche, and snowdrift. The summit had been part of their horizon for several days, but their new vantage proved that they were getting very close indeed.

“I can’t believe we’re almost there!” Gretchan said breathlessly. It was several moments before she realized that her companion had fallen a number of paces behind. “Brandon!” she called, turning and waving to the bearded, plodding dwarf. “Come on!”

“What’s your hurry?” the big dwarf demanded sourly. His sturdy legs chugged along, and the large backpack looming higher than his head didn’t affect his balance or bearing. Even so, he moved more slowly than he had on any day during the long trek northward. “We’ll get there when we get there,” he added.

“But-there’s Garnet Peak, right there!” she said, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright with excitement. She turned and pointed to the lofty, snowcapped mountain that had dominated their view for the past few days. “Your homeland is right underneath it!”

“Don’t you think I know that? After all, I was born there!” Brandon snapped.

“Well, you sure don’t sound like someone who’s going home for the first time in more than a year!” Gretchan retorted. “If you were walking any slower, a glacier would beat you!”

“Glaciers move down mountains. We’re climbing up,” he shot back, allowing a smug smile to gleam through his beard.

His companion sighed, her shoulders slumping as she shook her head and looked at him. Her excitement and enthusiasm seemed to all drain away in that look, and he felt a stab of guilt.

“You’re really worried about what you’re going to find in Kayolin, aren’t you?” she asked sympathetically. “Look, if you really want to stop here, to turn around, we can. We don’t have to go there if you don’t want to, you know. We really don’t.”