Whirligig by John Broughton

Author:John Broughton [Broughton, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow City - A Next Chapter Imprint
Published: 2021-02-24T22:00:00+00:00

IV

The Citadel of Wealth

19

Gilded roofs, golden towers and gilt turrets circled the brow of the hill like a splendid crown; from there they blazed sunlight in a boastful message to everyone outside their massive walls. A plaque gracing those walls proclaimed:

“This Citadel, Poor World, was built topped by a crown

to display the wealth within.”

Success brought them right under these walls for the four friends to gaze up in wonder. They had no idea of the splendour inside where each window ledge and door frame was carved in jade. Bulls’ heads, pouncing jaguars and arched scorpions menaced coiled serpents, demons and dragons across the narrow jade-green streets. Way above them, blazoned banners, worked in gold and silver thread, unfurled lazily in the breeze at every pinnacle. Wherever the eye rested in the Citadel, it was struck by rich detail, charm and beauty.

Adam was the first to take his gaze from the Citadel. When he turned around, he found a member of their party gone.

“Where’s Success?”

The others dragged their eyes from the Citadel and blinked around them. There was no sign of the elf.

“She's pretty good at disappearing,” Emily muttered. “In fact, she makes a habit of it.”

For the first time in several days, Adam addressed his three companions: Lar, Palustric and Emily.

“There’s no point in standing around here; we might as well go into the Citadel.”

Emily smiled happily because Adam was back to his old self. With Success around, he’d not even looked their way, never mind spoken to them. In the elf’s presence, her brother was no more than a marionette.

“Success wanted us to come here, so let’s explore,” the till-devoted Adam set off towards the fortified gateway which guarded the drawbridge across the moat.

In the gateway, two guards barred their way with crossed pikes and two others came out of a small room in a corner tower. Across the chest, their burgundy silk uniforms bore the emblem of a golden fist clenching a laden purse.

A guard told Emily that no-one was permitted into the Citadel unless he could demonstrate sufficient means. Emily held up her bags of gold while Adam pulled out his bag of coins too.

“We're not beggars,” he said, trying not to sound rude.

“Quite so,” one of the guards smiled, pressing his hands, heavy with gold rings, together in a gesture of apology.

“He's a goblin,” Lar whispered to Emily, nervously. “They’re all goblins, Mistress.”

Emily knew that from their ugliness, but their friendliness made her feel more at ease. The sumptuous goblin guards’ uniforms, deep burgundy velvet embroidered with lions in gold thread, also helped to soften their appearance.

“Come this way,” the heavy-ringed guard spoke with authority, “to the Weighing Chamber.”

“A kind of Weighting Room,” Adam said, but the others were too curious to take any notice of his weak pun.

They entered a bare, circular stone room, where at once they were met by a piteous plea: “I've got three gold teeth! Pull them out! Won't you pull them out, please?”

The four friends stared in amazement at a

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