by A. Giannetti
“When the Goblin armies entered this valley after driving us out of the Broken Lands, we had already withdrawn into the city and closed the gates. I was among those who watched from the windows in the cliff as they drew a ram up the road behind teams of the black oxen that the Goblins use. The body of the ram was wood, four feet thick with ten great handles of iron set on each side of it. The head was of black steel formed into the shape of a lentulus. Black smoke rose from its nostrils, and red fire curled about their flared rims. We shot countless crossbow bolts from the windows above the gates, but still it came on. It was carried the last hundred feet by a score of great trolls dressed in chain mail and helmets. Their stony hides turned aside our bolts, but still we did not worry as they prepared to swing the ram for the first stroke.
“I will never forget the sound as the ram struck the gates. A thunderous explosion rent the air, and the mountain seemed to shiver to its roots so that many were thrown from their feet. When I looked down through a window, I saw that the gates were a twisted ruin, for the spells imbued in the head of the ram had overcome the spells holding the gates closed. The force of the explosion had also shattered the ram and had slain all the Trolls. Driven by the whips of the Uruc captains, a second troop of Trolls dragged the ruined ram and the bodies of their fellows away amidst a rain of crossbow bolts.
“We still had not given up hope at that point, for there was a second gate equal in strength to the first gate at the end of the great corridor that led through the cliff into the city. The power of the ram was spent, our captains assured us, and no ordinary ram could make a dent in our gates. Then, to our dismay we saw from our vantage points above the ruined gates that a second ram was approaching up the road that led to the entrance to the city.
The evacuation of Calenus was begun at once through the back gate. As the second ram was dragged into the corridor leading to the second gate, we shot our crossbow bolts down on the Trolls through grates in the ceiling, but their stony flesh resisted all our efforts to slay them. When they neared the gate, we withdrew into the great hall behind it. There was another explosion, and the gates crumpled like paper before the ram. The Goblin army poured in through the breech like water through a broken dam. In the days that followed, we fiercely contested every foot they wrested from us, but their numbers were too great. In the end we were driven out of Calenus, but only after thousands of Dwarves either died fighting in dark places under the mountain or were captured and taken west to Nefandus to labor in the service of the Dark King. Those of us who were left fled north to Ennodius.”
Ascilius fell silent for a moment. “Let us move on,” he said at last, in a somber voice. “We must reach the pass before dark.”
Staying close together so that the spell cast by the ring protected both of them, Elerian and Ascilius descended down to the valley floor. Feeling terribly exposed, despite being invisible, they headed north, keeping close to the stony slopes on their left. It seemed almost too easy to Elerian, for the barren valley on their right remained empty. Nothing challenged them as they walked north. The uneventful miles fell away beneath their feet, and for the first time, Elerian became hopeful that they might escape after all. After a tense hour, the valley narrowed, bringing them close to the road that ascended to the pass.
“We will have to travel on the road to reach the pass,” whispered Ascilius to Elerian.
Elerian felt even more exposed as he followed Ascilius onto the roadbed, which began at once to climb steeply, taking them toward the defile high above them and still out of their sight.
“Soon, we will be safe,” said Ascilius eagerly when they were about three quarters of the way up.
He stopped abruptly in his tracks when they rounded a shoulder of the mountain and had a clear view of the pass for the first time. The way was not open. A wide, double gate flanked by two squat towers pierced by many dark windows blocked the pass completely. Cast into the steel of each door that formed the gate was a grinning wolf’s head with red eyes that glimmered in the sunlight.
“The Goblins have blocked off the pass in the years since I was captured,” said Ascilius. He sounded disappointed but not surprised to Elerian.
“I could change our shapes,” Elerian suggested to Ascilius. “We could leave all our gear behind and try and sneak past the fort by climbing the cliffs.”
“No,” said Ascilius at once. “I told you before that I will not risk being trapped in another form if something happens to you. There is still another path we can take, but I did not want to attempt it until I was sure the pass was closed. Let us leave here before some sentry takes notice of us.”
Hastily Ascilius turned away from the pass and began walking back the way they had come. He and Elerian kept looking back over their shoulders and listening, but no alarm was forthcoming.
“Our luck is holding so far, but how much longer can it last?” wondered Elerian to himself, for they had only another hour or so of daylight left. Soon the valley would swarm with Goblins and their allies.
When they reached the valley again, Ascilius left the road, traveling south along the base of the mountains.
“If we continue in this direction, we will end up near the gates of the city,” warned Elerian softly as he followed Ascilius’s pale shade.
“We will not travel that far,” replied Ascilius impatiently. “There is a secret entrance to the city not far from here if I can only find it after all these years.”
Ascilius suddenly turned left and began to climb the barren slope in front of him.
“How can you call it hidden?” asked Elerian, hurrying to stay near the impatient Dwarf so that he would not become visible. “I can see the towers guarding the gate to Calenus from here.”
“In the old days, this whole end of the valley was covered by great trees,” explained Ascilius without turning his head. “It was a wood where Dwarves came to hunt and to enjoy the open air. The hidden door was nowhere near as exposed then as it is now.”
“Why was such a door even built?” asked Elerian curiously as he continued to follow Ascilius up the slope.
“It had many uses,” said Ascilius. “It was a way for spies to leave the city, and it was close enough to the main gates to be used as a sally port. All Dwarf cities have such doors. We would build them even if they were not useful, I think, for Dwarves love things that are secret and hidden.”
Ascilius led Elerian toward two massive boulders that rested against each other. Between them was a narrow crevice, just wide enough for a Dwarf to squeeze through it. Elerian entered the crevice behind Ascilius and found himself in a shallow cave. He watched as the Dwarf walked up to the back wall of the cave and spoke a word in the Dwarf tongue. Immediately, a small door was outlined in the rock by a silver thread of Argentum. It swung silently inward, revealing a tunnel about six and a half feet high and four feet wide.
“Quickly now,” said Ascilius to Elerian. “I will not feel safe until we are inside and the door is closed behind us.”
As Ascilius walked through the doorway into the dark tunnel, Elerian hesitated before the entrance, feeling a reluctance to go underground again. After all his long years of captivity in the Goblins’ mines, the thought of leaving the free air of the surface, of having all those tons of stone pressing down on him from above, filled him with an uncharacteristic hesitancy.
He forced himself to take the first step into the inky darkness beyond the door. As soon as he was clear of it, the door swung shut behind him with a muffled thud that caused him to start. He sent his ring away, feeling an immediate sense of relief as the ring ceased drawing on his powers to maintain its spell. Visible once more, he found himself alone in complete darkness, for there was no sign of Ascilius.
CALENUS
Suddenly, a small mage light, no larger than a firefly, appeared in the tunnel a score of feet ahead of Elerian. Below it, he could see Ascilius’s craggy features, his broad brow creased into a frown.
“Why are you stopping?” asked the Dwar
f in an irritated voice. “I thought you were right behind me.”
“I waited to make sure that we were not being followed,” replied Elerian at once. The last thing he wanted was to let Ascilius know that he was reluctant to go underground again.
“Stay close from now on,” grumped Ascilius. “It is easy to become lost down here if you do not know the way.”
“That I can believe,” thought Elerian to himself as he followed Ascilius down the tunnel.
The tiny mage light Ascilius had lit maintained its position above the Dwarf’s head, providing just enough light for Elerian and Ascilius to see by, but not enough to ruin their eyes for the darkness that lay beyond the light. The narrow tunnel they were following slanted down into the earth at a slight angle and, as far as Elerian could tell, ran straight east. Although the floor of the passageway was smooth and level, the walls and arched ceiling were rough in appearance. In many places, Elerian could see the gouges left behind by chisels and picks. There was a thick layer of undisturbed dust on the floor, an indication to Elerian that they were the first to pass this way in many years.
“How is it you know your way around here?” Elerian asked Ascilius curiously, for he noticed that the Dwarf walked with a sure, confident step as if the path they followed was well known to him.
“I helped dig this tunnel,” said Ascilius, his voice markedly more cheerful since they had entered the passageway. Being underground appeared to have had the opposite effect on him that it had had on Elerian. He seemed at home here, as he never had walking through the forest.
“I was but a lad then,” said Ascilius, continuing his story. “Although I was barely fifty years old, I was already skilled in the working of stone, and the elders of Calenus were eager to have my help. Thirty years in all, I labored under this mountain. It was a fair place then and for many years after. In that time there were no Goblins east of the Murus, and later, when they crossed over the mountains, they stayed mostly in Nefandus, although, occasionally, small parties raided into the Broken Lands. Fimbria was closed to them then and the Abercius, also.
“Fimbria I can understand, but what kept them out of the Abercius,” asked Elerian. “Were they afraid of the Ondredon?”
“It was not the tree giants that they feared,” replied Ascilius. “There are people in that forest, although no one has ever seen one in their true form that I know of. The Hesperian’s have many names for them: Dryads, wood sprites, nymphs but what they call themselves no one knows, for they permit no one to enter their forests. Even the Gray Elves were never allowed to enter their lands. They may keep their own histories, but the Dwarves have no records of their origins. If they are related to the Elves, as some believe, then they have been sundered from their kindred for countless years.”
“Most of the Hesperians I knew in my youth, except for Balbus, thought the forest people had disappeared long ago or were only legends,” said Elerian.
“They are certainly not legends but as to whether any are still alive, I cannot say,” replied Ascilius. “To this day, the Goblins avoid the Wild Wood, so it may still be defended”
“If the forest people still exist and are related to the Elves, then I am surprised that Torquatus has ignored them all this time,” observed Elerian.
“He will leave them until last,” replied Ascilius grimly, “for they are no threat to him while they remain deep in their forests. When all the others have fallen, he will burn them and the Abercius to ash.”
Elerian found Ascilius prediction to be both sobering and disturbing as he imagined the ancient forest he had explored as a youth reduced to a barren, stump filled wasteland like Fimbria. He asked no more questions about the forest people, turning his thoughts instead to the ancient city they had entered by stealth.
“Why did the Dwarves build Calenus, Ascilius?” Elerian asked. “It must have been a great undertaking if it required so many years to complete.”
“It was almost as great an undertaking as satisfying your curiosity,” observed Ascilius dryly. “Years count for little to a Dwarf, for we live many lifetimes of men, and we make light of hard work. We built Calenus to be close to the Elves, for we traded a great deal with them in those days, but we had no city close to their lands. Albior and the mountains that surround him were rich in iron, gems, gold, and silver, so we decided to build our city beneath his slopes. Dwarves came from each of the three cities to the north, and the great work was begun. This was a fair place back then, filled with light and many inhabitants. The valley outside the gates was covered with rich farms, and trees grew thick on the slopes of the mountains.” Ascilius suddenly fell silent, lost in his memories.
“Where are we going?” Elerian finally asked Ascilius after it seemed they had walked in silence for miles through the dark tunnel. He found traveling through the narrow, featureless passageway both dull and monotonous.
“We are travelling toward the eastern side of the mountain,” said Ascilius patiently. “I know all of the hidden and remote passageways through Calenus. If we are very lucky, we will avoid the Goblins and will come out high on the eastern face of Albior where there is another hidden door. From there, we will be able to see if my people still hold the north road to Ennodius. If that way is blocked, we will walk east to the plains, which are not far at that point. I am well known among the Tarsi, and we will have no trouble securing safe passage through their lands. You can return with me to Ennodius then, or you can travel south to one of the Tarsi seaports on the Bay of Hateria. From there, you can sail to Marsala where you can travel by land to any point you wish in Hesperia.”
“By rights I should go back to Lascar,” Elerian thought to himself guiltily. “I should make sure that Lurco was not lying to me about Balbus and Tullius.”
In his heart, however, Elerian was certain that the Uruc had told him the truth in the ruined castle. His own orb had shown him Balbus’s farmhouse in flames. Balbus and Tullius were dead at Lurco’s hands, and very likely, years had passed since then, although he was still not sure how long he had been a captive of the Goblins.
“If I did return, what would I do in Hesperia with Balbus and Tullius gone?” Elerian wondered to himself. “Everything has surely changed during my long absence. I have changed too,” he suddenly realized.
He was older now and used to using his magical powers freely. Would he be able to put aside his powers and resume his disguise as a Hesperian to live the quiet life of a farmer? It seemed highly unlikely. There was also the matter of his history to be considered. He would never find out in Hesperia who his parents were and why the trees called him a half blood.
“I would be better off to stay with my original plan and travel to Ennodius with Ascilius,” thought Elerian to himself.
“If I return to Ennodius with you, Ascilius, will you take me on as your apprentice?” asked Elerian aloud, wondering if Ascilius had made a decision yet about becoming his instructor.
“Perhaps,” said Ascilius evasively. “I still have not made up my mind. One must have a clear mind to master the red fire,” said Ascilius slyly. “Now that you have been smitten by love, you may no longer be in a fit state for such a dangerous undertaking.”
“I am not in love,” said Elerian, his voice betraying an irritation that delighted Ascilius, for it was not often that his barbs were so effective.
“The woman I saw in the orb merely aroused my curiosity,” protested Elerian, “for she had the dark hair and eyes of an Ancharian, but not their features. The orb shows the past as well as the present, so it is likely that she may is a member of some vanished race. It would be a waste of my time to search for her.”
Ascilius made no reply, but his dark eyes gleamed mischievously under their bushy brows.
“He can make all the arguments he wants,” thought Ascilius happily to himself. “It only shows how little he knows the ways of love. He is fairly caught, whether he is willing to admit it or not, like a bright trout on a fisherman’s line. I will have payment at last for all
the torments he has heaped on me.”
Ascilius began to hum a Dwarf marching song happily under his breath as he walked along.
“I should never have confided in him,” thought Elerian ruefully to himself as he followed along behind Ascilius. “Even now, he is undoubtedly plotting his next witticism at my expense,” he thought to himself, staring suspiciously at Ascilius’s broad back.
If Ascilius was planning more mischief, he kept it to himself. No sound came to Elerian’s ears except for the steady tramp of the Dwarf’s boots as he led the way down the tunnel, which continued to descend under the mountain at a gentle incline, running straight as an arrow in an easterly direction. Elerian kept expecting the air to turn close and stale, but despite the fact that they were now deep underground, it remained fresh.
“There must be vents somewhere to bring in air from outside the mountain,” thought Elerian himself.
Despite the fresh air, he felt oppressed by the enormous weight of stone over his head. The deep, interminable silence around them made it seem as if they had entered a tomb, and Elerian began to wonder if he and Ascilius would ever see the light of day again. He noted that the Dwarf seemed immune to the oppression and gloom that filled his own heart. Ascilius seemed to gain in vigor with each step he took as if he drew strength from the rock under his feet.
“What a strange race he comes from, to love the deep places of the earth so much,” thought Elerian to himself.
Finally, when it seemed as if they had walked for miles, Elerian asked, “Will this tunnel take us all the way through the mountain to the back door, Ascilius?”
“That would have been too much digging even for a city of Dwarves,” said Ascilius, laughing quietly at the very thought. “This is only a side tunnel that will take us into the city. A Dwarf city is like a cake with several layers, the largest being on the bottom and the smallest on top,” he explained expansively as he began to expound on Dwarf building techniques, one of his favorite subjects.
