She did. With her free hand, she pulled a gleaming circlet of silver from her purse and held it high. Twelve blue stones, as bright as those in the king’s new crown, glittered from the ring of brilliant metal. The gathered dwarves gasped in awe, some of them sidling away from her, others pressing close. Some of the latter included the redcoats of the Garnet Guard. The latter formed enough of a barrier, Brandon saw with relief, that the Enforcers would not be able to reach the priestess without passing through the obstacle of several dozen sturdy dwarves.
“I am a priestess of Reorx,” Gretchan Pax declared calmly. “And I tell you all that this, in my hand, is the real Torc of the Forge. It is the talisman of our god, and until Brandon Bluestone, the Horax Hero, found it in the hive of those foul creatures, it was lost to our people for many ages.”
“Lies!” cried Lord Heelspur. He raised the crown. “These are the gems from the torc!”
Gretchan looked at him with an almost palpable glare of contempt. She beat the butt of her staff on the floor again, and the anvil atop the shaft began to glow, far brighter than all the torches in the great hall.
“If you are certain you speak the truth,” she said coldly. “Then I suggest that you place that crown upon the false king’s head. Let the people of Kayolin see the proof of their god’s displeasure.”
Regar Smashfingers glanced at Heelspur, and Brandon could see real fear in his eyes. He stared at the crown as if it were some kind of poisonous spider, while Alakar Heelspur’s face twisted into a glare of fury.
“Here, my king!” he said boldly. “Let me place the crown upon your brow!”
Caught in his own bluster, the king nodded. Heelspur stepped up onto the short stairway before the throne, so he was a little above the king, who still stood upon the floor. With a grand flourish, he set the circlet of silver on Regar Smashfingers’s head.
The king almost winced as the metal touched his scalp. Then he relaxed as, for the moment, nothing happened.
“Dwarves of Kayolin!” Lord Heelspur declared forcefully. “Behold the power and the glory of your king!”
There were a few cheers, mostly from the Enforcers and the men of the king’s personal attendants and loyal courtiers. The majority of the spectators watched warily, casting glances between Gretchan and Smashfingers.
She timed her challenge perfectly, as the tension built to an almost explosive level.
“Dwarves of Kayolin!” she cried. “Behold the power and glory of your god!”
Again she smacked the staff on the floor. The torc in her hand began to glow with a brilliant light. At the same time, the king shrieked in pain and pulled the crown off of his head. His hair was smoking, and he dropped the metal circlet with a curse. It struck the floor, and all twelve of the sapphires popped out of their mounts to roll crazily across the throne room floor.
A bolt of light shot from Gretchan’s staff, touching the shackles around Brandon’s and his father’s wrists. In the searing blast of that beam, both sets of manacles sprang open, falling to the floor with clangs of iron. Brandon wasted no time lunging forward and snatching his axe from the startled Baracan Heelspur. At the same time, Garren pulled a sword from the sheath of a nearby guard-a dwarf who was frozen in place, staring at his monarch with a horror-stricken expression.
“Stop this treason!” Alakar Heelspur shouted. “Stop, I command you! In the name of the king!”
“No! Our king is in Thorbardin!” roared General Watchler.
The commander of the Garnet Guard, resplendent in his red uniform, had stepped forward to stand beside Gretchan at the edge of the balcony. “You are the treasonous one-feeding us your lies, working your murders, using your Enforcers to terrorize your own citizens. Tell us, Lord Heelspur: Who killed Nailer Bluestone?”
“Take him!” cried the chief of the Enforcers, frantically gesturing at the general. But there were too many redcoats surrounding him, and the League’s agents, in their shiny black leather, were clearly reluctant to charge the veteran troops.
The two Bluestones, father and son, advanced side by side upon Baracan and Alakar Heelspur. From somewhere that seemed very far away, Brandon heard the chant pick up again: “Bluestone, Bluestone, Bluestone …” And with each recitation of their name, it picked up in volume and force, rumbling like a distant drum approaching quickly.
Regar Smashfingers dropped to his knees, scrambling around the floor and snatching up a sapphire here, another winking gem there. “My crown!” he wailed, his voice spiking to a shrill, high pitch. His courtiers and guards stepped back, staring at the ruler as if desperate to get out of the way of his clutching fingers. One fawning nobleman dropped down to help, but Regar slapped his hand away as he reached for one of the rolling gems.
“Mine!” shouted Smashfingers, his voice cracking.
“I tell you, this is treason!” cried Alakar Heelspur, stepping around the king, ignoring his ruler as he pointed at the two advancing dwarves. “How dare you challenge the rightful law of this place! The rightful government, your new king?”
He waved at the rank of Enforcers who stared aghast at the figure of their ruler crawling around on the floor.
“The rightful law, the one that killed my brother, Nailer Bluestone?” Brandon roared, taking another step forward. “The lawful government that allowed that murder, that practices treachery and theft, giving to House Heelspur the treasure rightly won by House Bluestone?”
He raised the Bluestone Axe in his right hand, pointing at Baracan with his left. “I call you murderer! I name you thief! And Nailer Bluestone will be avenged.”
He advanced at a rush, as Baracan drew his sword and circled away from the throne to give himself fighting room.
“Stop him!” shouted Lord Heelspur. “Enforcers, take him down!”
The agents of the League finally reacted as the command snapped them from their shock. Swords slid from sheaths; mighty halberds were raised high; and the black-garbed dwarves started toward Brandon from both sides and from behind.
“Murderer!” the younger Bluestone repeated, sprinting toward Baracan before the Enforcers could interfere. He raised his axe, haft held in both of his hands, over his head.
“Bluestone! Bluestone! Bluestone!” The chant resounded through the throne room, echoing from the ceiling and thumping through the very bedrock itself. The Enforcers hesitated, glancing at each other nervously. Several swordsmen of the Garnet Guards stepped forward, weapons sheathed, to interpose themselves between the black-clad agents of Heelspur’s League and the duel taking shape before them.
Brandon brought his axe down in a short, controlled chop. Baracan, expecting a more forceful blow, parried the attack and retreated, circling around behind the throne. With his axe dancing right, left, high, and low, Brandon followed. A part of his mind reminded him to be cautious, but cold fury doused his attempts at restraint. He made a sudden rush again, slashing back and forth, while his enemy jabbed, carving a cut on his wrist before he could push out of the way.
The two battlers came around the other side of the throne. Brandon glanced up, looking for danger, but he saw that the Garnet Guards, while not taking part in the fight, had formed enough of a barrier that the Enforcers were effectively held back. At the very least, they would have had to push aside the stalwart members of that ancient regiment in order to get to Brandon. Garren Bluestone, too, was holding back, though he held his sword at the ready, his eyes shifting from Regar to Alakar to Baracan.
Even the ruler had ceased his hunt for the scattered gems. He rested upon his knees, looking up at the duel raging before him, wincing every time steel clashed against steel.
Brandon’s mind flashed a picture of Nailer, his older brother hoisting a mug, toasting his friends, his face full of youth, beaming with pleasure. Then he saw that same face, lifeless and bloody, on the floor of a lonely cave. Nailer had died because Lord Heelspur craved the vein of gold the Bluestone brothers had just discovered, and Lord Heelspur’s son had led the assassins. That murder would finally be avenged!