The Mage (The Hidden Realm)

by A. Giannetti

  The forest was full of life. Herds of hairy, black pigs noisily rooted out nuts from under the carpet of fallen leaves covering the ground. In the small water meadows alongside the larger streams, spotted deer, brown deer, and the larger red deer grazed on the succulent grasses. Gathered in small herds, brown oxen grazed in the larger meadows. Four-footed hunters were also abroad in the night. Haunting the edges of the meadows were packs of pale-eyed gray wolves, and Elerian saw stealthy leopards with glittering eyes traveling along the tree limbs of the forest canopy. Once, a brown bear, with red, gleaming eyes, passed beneath him, its vast bulk almost equal to that of one of the wild oxen cows. Nowhere did Elerian see any sign of the venetor. Much to Balbus’s relief, Elerian gave up the hunt for the night stalker, convinced that the mysterious creature had vanished again.

  MARKET DAY

  Not long after Elerian gave up his hunt for the venetor, he and Balbus made a trip with a load of honeycomb to the open air market in Sidonia. This was something they did once a week, summer and winter, traveling over the narrow grass covered lane that led from Balbus’s farm to the town.

  It was early morning when they set out. The narrow road was cool under the shade of the great ash trees, which grew on each side of it at regular intervals. Elerian walked, but Balbus, to spare his legs, rode on their old brown plow horse. He appeared almost asleep, for his white bearded chin was sunk deeply into his chest. Two wicker baskets, containing clay jars filled with honeycomb, were fastened to the back of his worn saddle. Elerian led the horse by the reins, walking beside the animal with a tireless, easy stride. A sharp eye would have noted that he left little sign of his passage behind him, as if his feet pressed only lightly on the thick turf covering the lane. Other than the times when they waved to or greeted acquaintances on the farms they passed, Balbus and Elerian traveled in a companionable silence until they reached Sidonia.

  The first thing they saw as they approached the town was the outer wall. Twenty feet high and built of square cut granite blocks joined tightly together without mortar, it circled the entire town. A chest high parapet, behind which defenders could hide themselves, topped the outer edge of the wall. Behind the parapet was a four foot walkway, and at intervals, stone stairways led down to the narrow stone paved street that ran along the inside of the wall. The lane, which Balbus and Elerian traveled on, entered the town through a stout wooden gate. The heavy double doors of oak were open, and there was no guard, for these were peaceful times. As Balbus and Elerian passed beneath the stone lintel of the gate, the lane became a road about a dozen feet across, made of closely fitted, flat stones. The houses that crowded up against both sides of the road were built of the same gray stone as the walls and had brown or red tile roofs made of clay. Although the houses were built close together to save space, many had small walled gardens in the back and wide sidewalks separated them from the road.

  Elerian and Balbus passed several narrow, paved streets, both on their right and on their left, before they came to the wide square, which occupied the center of the town. Like the road, the town square was paved with large flagstones, skillfully laid together. Several huge chestnut trees, growing in small plots of green grass, provided shade from midsummer sun. Wooden booths and stalls were already set up around the square, and a crowd of people already swirled around the booths. The sounds of many voices; shouting, laughing, and bargaining, filled the air.

  Elerian unloaded their horse in the shade of one of the chestnut trees and then left to picket him in a small field outside the town walls. When he returned, he walked past booths selling fresh fruits, vegetables, meats, wines, and cheeses produced locally. Other booths sold cloth, utensils, Dwarf lights, and scissors keen as razors that traders brought in from Marsala, where the Dwarves came south to trade for wine and grain. Elerian knew many of the people in the square and returned friendly greetings until he reached Balbus, who was now sitting on a bench beneath the chestnut tree where Elerian had left him. He was selling honeycomb directly from the clay pots cradled in their wicker baskets. One pot was already empty, for the wild honey that Balbus sold always seemed to taste better than honey from tame hives.

  When the second pot was empty, Balbus and Elerian walked through the crowds to the north side of the square, where the inn was located. The Black Boar was the only tavern in Sidonia. It was a large two-story building built of gray stone and roofed with red clay tiles. The thick stone walls on both levels were regularly pierced by small square windows. In the front of the inn was a pair of large oak doors, reached by three wide stone steps. The doors were usually open in all but the coldest weather. Behind the tavern, accessible by a narrow alley, were a stable and a courtyard where wagons could be parked at night. Most of the traffic in the inn came from the local people, but one could still occasionally meet traders from all over Hesperia there, for the wine of the region was widely sought after.

  Beyond the double doors was a large, low ceilinged room with walls of gray stone. Wide, smoke darkened planks and beams of oak ran across the ceiling. On the right hand wall was a large fireplace and running across the back wall was a wooden counter with a stone top. Behind the counter was a set of swinging doors that led into the kitchen. The room in front of the counter was filled with polished wooden tables and benches, and Dwarf made lamps hung from the ceilings on iron chains, filling the room with a soft yellow light.

  The inn was crowded with farmers, townspeople, and a sprinkling of traders, as well as soldiers from the nearby fort that guarded the mountain pass that led south into Hesperia. Balbus led the way to a small table in a corner that was still empty and ordered a meal for himself and Elerian from the harried innkeeper. They returned the greetings of friends and neighbors, but otherwise kept to themselves. After so many warnings from Balbus and Tullius, it was second nature for Elerian not to attract attention to himself.

  They were just beginning to enjoy their meal when Dioges, a farmer who lived down the road from Balbus, approached their table. Short and broad, like most Hesperians, and brown as a hazelnut from the sun, Dioges greeted Balbus and Elerian. “Crowded today,” he observed thoughtfully.

  “A good crowd for market day,” Balbus said agreeably.

  “I lost a lamb last night,” said Dioges matter-of-factly. “I have already told everyone else who lives nearby, and I thought you should know too.”

  “Was it a leopard or a wolf?” asked Balbus in surprise, for the larger beasts of prey usually kept to the lower forest during the warm months.

  “I don’t think it was either one,” said Dioges. “I was a bit late getting the sheep in, and it was already dark when the boys and I went to fetch them out of the pasture. I saw right away that the dogs were acting strangely. They were huddled away from the north fence, with the flock, as if they were afraid. When I counted the sheep, I found there was a lamb missing. My boys and I searched for it, but all we found were some odd tracks leading toward the gate in the hedge. The gate was wide open.”

  “What sort of tracks,” asked Balbus curiously.

  “The sort of tracks I have not seen in many years. Half animal and half human they looked. I think the venetor has come back,” said Dioges slowly. “The creature that took my lamb was clever enough to open the latch on my gate.”

  Dioges paused for a moment in his narrative. His alert brown eyes had noted the gleam of interest that the mention of the venetor brought to Elerian’s eyes.

  “The moon is dark,” he said looking directly at Elerian. “I would stay out of the forest.” Without another word, he turned and walked back to his own table.

  Balbus had also caught the gleam in Elerian’s eyes. Speaking softly, so that he would not be overheard, he said, “You should follow Dioges advice and stay close to home.”

  “You did not object to my hunting the creature before,” Elerian reminded Balbus.

  “I knew it would not appear under the light of the moon, so I did not worry,” admitted Balbus. “Now that the moon is dark, the venetor i
s more likely to be abroad in the forest.”

  “That is all the more reason to follow the fresh trail it has left behind,” said Elerian. “If something is not done about the creature, it will likely renew its assault on Tullius.”

  “Tullius can take care of himself,” said Balbus, but he saw from the stubborn look on Elerian’s face that his mind was made up. “You could at least wait until morning before you set out,” said Balbus without much hope that Elerian would listen to his advice. “It will be less dangerous than hunting this creature at night.”

  “At night is when I have the best chance of finding it and destroying it,” said Elerian, obstinately.

  “Destroying the venetor will be no easy task,” said Balbus warningly. “At least take some men and dogs with you.”

  “They will only alert the venetor or cause it to run off as they stumble blindly about in the dark. My best chance of finding it is to hunt alone,” said Elerian with a note of finality in his voice.

  They finished their meal in an unhappy silence. When they set out for home, it was at a leisurely pace, for Elerian did not intend to set out until it was almost dark. It was late evening before they reached the farm, and once inside, Elerian gathered up his hunting gear at once.

  “Do not wait up,” he said to Balbus, as he strung his short, powerful bow and hung a quiver of long gray-feathered arrows over his right shoulder. A feeling of excitement that he had not felt in quite some time coursed through him at the prospect of a dangerous hunt. “If I strike a warm trail, I may be gone all night.”

  “Take care,” said Balbus warningly. “This is no simple leopard or wolf that you are pursuing tonight.”

  Elerian smiled confidently at Balbus. “It is still an animal, even if it does possess some unusual powers. I will deal with it and return with its hide before sunrise,” he said boldly.

  Balbus sighed as he followed Elerian out the door, for he knew that he would not sleep tonight. He watched worriedly as Elerian disappeared into the night. “Perhaps they are meant to meet,” he consoled himself as he went back inside and closed the door. “Somehow the fate of this creature is bound up in his own. I have begun to think lately that Tullius was right in this matter. It was more than chance that brought the creature to my door on the first night that I brought Elerian home.”

  It was almost full dark by the time Elerian arrived at Dioges’ farm. The blue-black sky was clear and already dusted with the first faint stars. A light, warm breeze was stirring, and Elerian’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. Tonight, he would rid the forest of an ancient, deadly menace. As he crossed the farmer’s fields and pastures, he stayed well away from Dioges’ dark farmhouse, so as not to rouse the farmer’s dogs. When he reached the boundary hedge that separated the northern border of the farm from the forest, Elerian began to search the ground near the gate that led through the hedge. A man would have been almost blind on this dark night, but Elerian’s night wise eyes showed him every blade of grass in sharp relief. Everything was in shades of gray and black, but he was well used to the lack of color in the world after the sun went down. Without much trouble, he found the venetor’s faint prints and began reading the story that they told.

  After coming through the gate, the creature had crouched by the hedge. Using its power to command, it must have called a lamb from the flock. When the lamb was close enough, it simply reached out and lifted the poor, spellbound creature into its arms before carrying it away through the hedge gate.

  Elerian opened the gate and stepped through it, latching it shut behind him. Entering the forest, he quickly discovered faint scuffmarks in the fallen leaves under the trees, which a less skilled tracker might have missed even under the light of the sun. When he followed the marks deeper into the forest, he found the pale, stiff body of the lamb, its throat torn out. Dark blood stained the white wool, but the body was otherwise untouched.

  “It killed the poor creature here without a struggle and then drank its blood,” thought Elerian distastefully to himself. Circling the body of the lamb, he found more traces that showed where padded feet had disturbed the carpet of old leaves under the trees. With every sense alert, Elerian followed the faint trail left by the venetor. It led him in a northeasterly direction, down to the lower forest and eventually to Tullius’s front gate. Elerian looked over the gate at Tullius’s shabby home. It was undisturbed and there were no lights, indicating that Tullius was asleep.

  After setting an arrow to his bowstring, Elerian cautiously followed the tracks around the clearing, his heart pounding in excitement. Nothing sprang out at him, however, and the tracks eventually led him back to the front gate. Evidently, the creature had searched unsuccessfully for a way through Tullius’s defenses before retreating into the forest. From Tullius’s clearing, the trail of the venetor turned west, toward the Abercius.

  Elerian continued to follow the faint traces the creature had left behind. When he reached the border of the old forest, he entered it without hesitation. Safe in its ancient stronghold, the venetor had grown careless. By the bank of a small stream that flowed over a stony bed, Elerian found familiar prints. Clearly marked in the soft ground were tracks resembling misshapen, clawed hands. Elerian followed the trail away from the stream until it ended at the base of a broad oak tree with low-lying limbs.

  “This is how it escapes its pursuers,” Elerian thought to himself excitedly, as he examined the faint claw marks in the rough, furrowed bark of the tree. Passing his bow over his head and left shoulder, Elerian took off his light boots before quickly scaling the tree, using his strong fingers and toes to grip the coarse bark. Forty feet above the forest floor, Elerian pulled himself up onto a limb as thick as a young tree. Walking confidently across the wide branch, he examined the coarse bark under his bare feet. Clawed feet had left pale score marks in the gray bark. Painstakingly, Elerian followed the trail through the forest canopy, pausing often to examine the branches around him to guard against an ambush. He paid little attention to the ground below, for he was untroubled by heights and could walk fearlessly across branches the width of his palm.

  After a time, Elerian found that the venetor had descended back to the ground, down the trunk of an ash twice as thick as a man was tall. His sharp eyes immediately saw scuff marks in the leaves at the base of the tree, where the creature had dropped the last few feet to the ground. With only the barely visible marks of the creature’s feet in the leaves to guide him, Elerian took up the trail again. It soon led him to the base of a forest giant that had fallen into decay. The crown of the great oak tree was still green, but its trunk, which Elerian guessed to be almost twelve feet wide, was largely hollow and filled with a thick layer of decayed wood. Elerian approached the dark cavity cautiously and found signs that the venetor had slept here for a time.

  The trail led from the cavity to a small, clear stream where the creature had drunk its fill, leaving another careless footprint in the soft bank. The footprint was fresh, the earth still crumbling from its edges, and Elerian moved on with great caution between the widely spaced trees that stretched like gray columns in all directions. He was forced to watch both the ground and the canopy overhead, for there was no telling from which direction the venetor might launch an attack if it sensed his presence.

  Suddenly, Elerian felt a prickling down his spine and began to have the feeling of being watched. “Is the creature nearby, out of sight?” he wondered, his body tense as a strung bowstring. A nervous tension flowed through his body, and he started at every creak and rustle, wondering whether the faint sounds signaled that that the venetor was now hunting him. Pressing his back into the wrinkled bark of an ancient chestnut tree, Elerian stood and waited, bow in hand, without moving a muscle. He saw and heard nothing unusual, but the feeling grew in him that the creature was nearby, hidden and waiting for him to make some mistake that would give away his position. With his heart pounding in his chest, he endured endless, empty moments until a flicker of motion, twenty feet away to his right,
attracted his attention.

  A sleek, dark shape stepped silently from behind the shelter of an immense oak tree, and Elerian had his first glimpse of the creature he was following. It stood on its hind legs like a man, but Elerian saw that it balanced on the balls of its feet like an animal. Its powerful body was covered with glossy ink black fur. A short, thick tail lashed restlessly across its flanks, betraying its inner tension. The front paws were uplifted and ready to strike, the long, razor sharp claws unsheathed from its short, powerful fingers. When the creature opened its mouth in a soundless snarl, Elerian saw white fangs and sharp shearing teeth. Its round eyes glowed with a pale light as; short muzzle tilted to the sky, the venetor tested the air, questing for the scent of its pursuer.

  Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Elerian silently stepped away from the tree at his back and sped a gray-feathered arrow at its exposed throat. He was stunned when the venetor plucked the arrow out of the air with a blurred movement of its right hand. A sharp snap broke the tense silence as the venetor broke the arrow shaft in half with one strong hand. Before Elerian could set a second arrow to his bowstring, the creature vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

  Elerian remained frozen in place, but the beast did not appear again. Certain it was still nearby; he strained his hearing to the utmost, desperately seeking some clue to the creature’s whereabouts. The faint whisper of dry leaves stirred by a soft footfall caused him to turn suddenly to his left. Silent as a shadow, the venetor had circled behind him and was already hurtling toward him through the air, fanged mouth gaping and clawed forelimbs extended to strike. Dropping the bow he held in his left hand, Elerian pulled his knife out of its sheath with his right hand. At the last moment, he leaped quickly to his left, barely evading the creature’s reaching claws. As it landed heavily on the ground, Elerian stabbed at the venetor’s neck, where it joined its thick shoulders. At the first prick of cold steel, however, the creature twisted away from him, and Elerian’s keen blade left only a small, shallow wound across the creature’s right shoulder. Rearing up on its hind legs, the venetor struck at Elerian, its right paw a blur as it slashed at his face with its hooked, razor sharp claws. Instantly, Elerian crouched down, feeling one of the creature’s claws tug at his hair as the swift blow passed over his head. Rising suddenly, he caught the venetor by the heavy fur of its throat with his left hand, stabbing his knife upward between the creature’s ribs with his right hand. Again, at the touch of his knife, the venetor wrenched itself away with an irresistible strength and made a prodigious leap that carried it twenty feet through the air. Landing on all fours, it turned to face Elerian in a single, sinuous move. Remaining on all fours, the venetor opened its mouth and harsh, guttural words suddenly issued from its thin black lips.