by A. Giannetti
Taking his time, Elerian strolled over to the fire through the bedlam he had created, separating an entire back leg from one of the roasting pigs with a parting spell. The haunch vanished when Elerian extended his invisibility spell to cover it. Feeling pleased with himself, Elerian turned away from the fire with his prize and immediately froze in his tracks. Barely six feet away from him was one of the black hounds. It was staring in his direction, its eyes reflecting the fire’s red glare. A ruff of stiff hairs stood up all along the creature’s spine, and ugly growls were bubbling from deep in its chest. Although it could not see Elerian, it had caught his scent. If the hound began to bark, Elerian knew he would be discovered at once.
Before he could decide what to do, the fire behind him suddenly flared as a strong rush of air blew over it. Elerian turned his head and looked up over his left shoulder. A familiar, lean shape with enormous bat like wings was hovering over the bonfire, the scales covering its body gleaming red as they reflected the light of the flames. The dragon gave a sudden roar, and a jet of red flame issued from its mouth, shooting past Elerian on his left side. By chance, the flames hit the wooden keg, and there was a deafening explosion as the spirits inside it caught fire. Ele heard the ugly whine of several large splinters whizzing by him like arrows.
A sudden silence fell over the clearing. Every eye in it was focused on the shining dragon hovering in the air above the fire. The hound that had discovered Elerian immediately lost interest in him. Swapping ends, it bolted away howling, with its tail between its legs. Elerian ran in the opposite direction. Behind him, the whole clearing emptied out with a wondrous swiftness, as the Goblins and their hounds fled into the forest. Before the dragon even touched its clawed feet to the ground, there was not a soul to be seen in the clearing, although the yells of the terrified Goblins and the howling of their hounds could be heard fading into the distance. By the time the dragon pulled the first carcass from the fire and began to devour the warm meat, Elerian was also a good distance away from the clearing. “My good luck seems to have returned,” he thought to himself, thinking how fortunate he was to have gotten away undiscovered.
Just then, the sound of stealthy footsteps approaching stopped him in his tracks, wondering if the Goblins had discovered him after all. A moment later, Ascilius ran out from between the trees, and a warm smile spread across Elerian’s face. In spite of his hard words, the Dwarf had come back for him.
“You are running the wrong way, Ascilius,” said Elerian, and Ascilius stopped short.
“What have you done?” he demanded. He could not see Elerian, but he had immediately recognized his voice.
“I will tell you later,” said Elerian. “Turn around and run if you value your life!”
Grumbling to himself, Ascilius turned and ran the other way, retracing his steps uphill. “All this could have been avoided if you had listened to me,” he scolded Elerian. “You risked your life for no good reason.” Ascilius, of course, had not seen the haunch Elerian carried, for it, along with Elerian, was invisible.
A gleam of mischief lit Elerian’s gray eyes. “So, he thinks I risked my life for nothing, does he,” thought Elerian to himself. He sent his ring away so that he became visible, but in order to hide it from Ascilius, he cast an illusion over the haunch so that it resembled a stout branch that could be used as a staff. Ascilius took no notice of it, although from time to time, he sniffed the air with a puzzled expression on his face. When they came to a shallow stream flowing down into the valley, Elerian took the lead, wading into the water to break their trail. He and Ascilius followed the stream for almost half a mile, until they were well up the side of the mountain that reared up before them. Here, the stream became too small for them to wade in, and Elerian left it to walk on dry land once more. The trees were fewer now, and the ground between them was covered with thorny undergrowth, which forced them to slow their steps. Elerian began looking for a place where they might stop and safely spend the rest of the night. He was forcing his way through a particularly large thicket, when he was suddenly confronted with a stone wall.
“There is a wall here,” said Elerian in amazement to Ascilius, who was right behind him.
“It is more than likely an old farm house,” said the Dwarf. “There were others in this land before the Goblins came although they are all gone now.”
Ascilius squeezed past Elerian and began feeling his way along the wall, moving to Elerian’s right. Ten feet from Elerian, Ascilius parted the thorny branches in front of him, revealing a doorway. He stepped cautiously through it, closely followed by Elerian. They found themselves inside the remains of an old building about twenty feet on a side. The roof was gone, but the trees growing around it had stretched their branches over the walls to form a second roof of branches and leaves. The floor of the ruin was covered with broken pieces of tiles, old leaves, and broken branches. In the far wall was a second opening. When they walked through it, they found themselves in an old garden, now choked with brush and the runners of an ancient grapevine.
Ascilius spied a gleam of reflected starlight beneath the vines and, after a moments work, uncovered a small spring of clean water. He and Elerian drank their fill of cold, clear water. After Elerian sent his ring away, making them visible again, they washed clean the numerous, bloody scratches that covered both their bodies.
“Thorns and dragons, just what I would have expected in a land the Goblins call home,” grumbled Ascilius as he cleaned himself off. He cheered up somewhat when Elerian healed all of his wounds with a healing spell. While Elerian healed his own wounds, Ascilius washed his hair and beard, combing them out with his fingers. When he was done, he turned to Elerian and said sadly, “I am so hungry, I can still smell the pork that the Goblins were roasting in the clearing. In fact, I smelled it all the way up here. It is most strange now that I think about it.”
Elerian looked at Ascilius’s glum face and was unable to stop himself.
“You are right,” he said in a mystified voice. “I can smell it myself. In fact, I can still see it before my eyes. It was the most succulent pork I have ever looked upon, crisped to perfection. It must have been delicious with the spirits the Goblins were drinking.”
“Stop,” said Ascilius desperately, “say no more about it!” He looked so miserable that Elerian was finally forced to laugh. The Dwarf looked at him for a moment, as if he had gone mad. Then, seeing the gleam in Elerian’s eyes, sudden comprehension dawned on his face, for he was growing used to what he considered Elerian’s mad humor. Following his nose, he rushed to the stick, which Elerian had laid on a clean rock, and snatched it up, sniffing it eagerly with his nose. Elerian ended his illusion, and at the sight of the succulent haunch in his hands, Ascilius forgave Elerian everything. He tore a large piece from the haunch and ate it slowly, savoring the succulent mouthful with a glorious smile on his face.
“It will taste better with a drink,” said Elerian offering Ascilius a broken pot he had found in the garden. Ascilius took the pot, expecting to find spring water and found beer instead.
“Where did this come from?” he asked in amazement.”
“It is a spell I learned in my youth,” said Elerian. “I can change it to wine if you prefer.”
“Beer is more than adequate,” said Ascilius happily, and after a deep draught, he passed the pot back to Elerian. They made themselves comfortable, sitting with their backs against the farmhouse, and Ascilius demanded a full accounting of all that had occurred in the clearing.
“Lucky for you that the dragon appeared,” he said when Elerian ended his tale.
“It was most fortunate,” admitted Elerian, “but at least we have food now.”
“Little good it will do us if the Goblins’ pick up our trail,” Ascilius reminded Elerian.
“They are probably all underground, still hiding from the dragon,” replied Elerian. Full of good food and drink, he was not inclined to worry just now. “We should spend the rest of the night here. It might be safer
to travel by day from now on.”
Ascilius was not inclined to disagree. He was tired and already feeling sleepy from beer and the large quantity of pork he had consumed. “One of us must remain awake,” he said, looking hopefully at Elerian.
“I will keep the first watch,” said Elerian with a smile.
Ascilius cleared away the litter from a corner and lay down on the hard floor, falling asleep almost at once. Elerian was tired, but felt no real need of sleep. Quietly rummaging about in the debris that filled the room, he was pleased when he discovered a knife, much rusted but still useful. He found nothing else that was of any use. Sitting outside in the overgrown garden with his back against a wall, Elerian quietly used a flat rock to polish the blade and dress the edge of the knife. For good measure, he cleaned and sharpened the ax head Ascilius had carried all this way. Setting the ax head aside, he walked over to a large blackthorn growing in a corner of the garden. With a parting spell, Elerian separated a branch that was about the right thickness for a new ax handle from a low-growing limb of the tree. Taking it back to where he had left the ax head, he cast a shape-changing spell over the branch to loosen the rigid form of the wood. After a golden light, visible only to his eyes, spread over the limb, Elerian stripped the bark from the branch with his long, clever fingers before forming the compliant wood into the shape of an ax handle. When he firmly seated the ax head on the new handle with a light tap from a flat stone, a ray of sunlight suddenly glinted on the smooth wood. He saw with surprise that the sun was rising above the mountains to the east. Absorbed in his work, the hours of the night had sped by him, unnoticed.
“A neat piece of work,” said Ascilius’s deep voice appreciatively from the doorway of the ruin. Elerian started a little. Absorbed in his task, he had failed to notice that Ascilius was awake and watching him with an unreadable look in his dark eyes. A slight smile crossed Ascilius’s lips to see Elerian jump. He had not thought it possible to startle the wary Elf, for whatever Elerian thought, Ascilius was more convinced than ever that Elerian was one of the vanished Eirians. Reaching for the ax, Ascilius hefted it for a moment before spinning it in the air and catching it in his right hand.
“A nice balance, but the edge could be sharper,” said Ascilius critically as he tested the ax with his calloused thumb.
“You could shave with that ax,” said Elerian, “or at least you could if you could find your face under all that undergrowth.”
“Dwarves do not cut their beards,” said Ascilius disdainfully. He appreciatively stroked his thick beard, which was now a warm brown color streaked with gray since he had washed it. It covered half his chest and fell all the way to his waist. “I meant no offense with my comment about the ax. The edge you put on it is good, but it is not up to Dwarf standards. Everyone knows Dwarves are unmatched when it comes to working metal,” said Ascilius complacently.
A wily gleam suddenly lit Elerian’s clear gray eyes. Long ago, Tullius had told him that Dwarves did not share their magical knowledge with outsiders, but here was an opportunity to coax Ascilius into breaking that tradition. Quickly, he put his head down so that Ascilius could not see his face. “I wish I had the same skill with metal as one of your people,” he said admiringly. “Of course, a smith as talented as yourself must also have the power to bend metal to your will with magic. I am certain that is the real reason the Goblins kept you alive all that time in the mines,” said Elerian admiringly.
“Yes, you have guessed rightly,” said Ascilius. Touched by the admiration in Elerian’s voice, he admitted for the first time what Elerian had long suspected. “I am well versed in the spells that are necessary to work metal. Torquatus was aware of my knowledge and was determined to force me to make magical weapons for the leaders of his forces; otherwise, I would have been killed long before I met you.”
“Can you teach me to use my magic to work metal also?” asked Elerian casually, craftily springing the trap he had set for the Dwarf. Ascilius was taken aback by Elerian’s request, but he quickly recovered.
“This knowledge is not something we share with those who are not of our race,” said Ascilius sternly. “Even for a Dwarf, the apprenticeship is very dangerous. More than one would be smith has died trying to learn to control the red fire.”
Elerian was disappointed at Ascilius’s words, but he was not discouraged. “There will be time to wear him down,” he thought to himself. “Forget I asked then,” said Elerian. “I would not want you to go against the customs of your people.”
Ascilius gave him a penetrating look with his dark eyes, as if seeking some deception, but when Elerian looked up at him, he could see no hidden guile in his clear gaze. Although Elerian’s sharp humor was a trial at times, Ascilius had grown to like the young Elf and he relented somewhat.
“I will promise you this much,” said Ascilius quietly, “if we ever come to a safe place again, I will give serious thought as to whether an exception might be made in your case.”
Pleased with Ascilius’s promise, Elerian decided to put the matter aside now. There were other, more important things to worry about. “Do you know where we are,” he asked Ascilius, “and more importantly where we are going?”
Ascilius thought for a moment before answering. “We have come out on the eastern side of the Goblins’ mine, but I have no knowledge of the country that lies between here and the border of Nefandus. All I know is that we must continue east. If we are fortunate, we will eventually reach the border of the Broken Lands. It is a country I am familiar with, rugged and well forested. Under the cover of the spring leaves, we may come unseen to Calenus. Once it was a great Dwarf city, but now it is the eastern citadel of the Goblins. If we can win past it, we can make our way north through the mountains to Ennodius, the city that is my home.”
“It sounds like a long journey, full of risks,” said Elerian doubtfully.
“It will take at least two months to reach Ennodius, and there will be many dangers,” admitted Ascilius, “but I see no other way for us to reach the free lands to the east.”
“What if we could fly?” asked Elerian.
Ascilius shuddered and shook his head. “I have my own mage powers, but my talents do not extend to changing my shape. If something were to happen to you, I would be trapped in whatever form I wore at the time. It is not a risk I am willing to take. Besides, our only chance is to remain hidden while we travel. Even a small bird would not escape detection for long in this land. The Dark King’s spies are everywhere.”
Ascilius’s words reminded Elerian of the strange, red-eyed birds he had seen the other night. With such spies abroad in the land, Ascilius’s words made sense.
“Very well then” said Elerian reluctantly. “We will travel on foot under the cover of my ring, but we must travel by day. The lights of the magical forces are dim and hard to see under the sun.”
“We will travel by day,” said Ascilius. “That is the best time for avoiding Goblins in any case. Now then let us eat breakfast and perhaps you could brew us some of that excellent beer to go with it,” he said hopefully.
Elerian laughed in his clear voice, filling the broken pot once more with cool water, which he turned into a rich beer.
THE CASTLE
By the time Elerian and Ascilius finished their breakfast of pilfered pork, the sun was well up in the sky. Sadly, Ascilius cast away the bare bone that was all that was left of the haunch Elerian had stolen. He joined Elerian for a last drink from the spring before following him out of the decayed farmhouse. Once they were out in the open, Elerian put on his ring, and he and Ascilius both vanished from sight. They set out due east, Ascilius in the lead, and Elerian behind, with his third eye open so that he could follow the golden mantle of light that covered Ascilius.
As they climbed higher up the mountain, the oaks and chestnuts disappeared, and their place was taken by smaller thorny trees, like the blackthorn from which Elerian had fashioned Ascilius’s ax handle. It was miserable going, for the brush between the t
rees grew thicker, and they were often forced to crawl along on their hands and knees in the densest thickets. To conserve his strength, for his ring was exerting a constant drain on his powers to maintain the invisibility spell, Elerian used his parting spells only in the very worst places, where the inches long thorns threatened to tear their bare skin to pieces. Although it was still early spring, the day rapidly turned warm, and it soon became hot and stuffy in the midst of the thorn thickets, for there was not a breath of air blowing. To add to their misery, clouds of small midges and flies rose from the thickets to torment them. The flies were especially ferocious. They were a sable color with scarlet eyes, and their bites stung like liquid fire. Soon, Ascilius and Elerian were covered with itchy welts that threatened to drive them both to the edge of madness. Elerian finally cast a shield spell to hold the fierce swarms at bay. The spell had the added benefit of holding back the long hooked thorns that menaced them from every bush around them, but it also exerted a second constant drain on Elerian’s powers.
“You should have done this before,” said Ascilius wearily, for the biting flies had pushed him to his limits of endurance.
“As I recall,” said Elerian dryly, “you were the one who advised not to overtax my powers when using the ring.”
“I did not know we were going to be eaten alive,” said Ascilius, irritably waving at the swarms of insects, which still buzzed angrily around them. “These flies must be part Goblin, the way they thirst for blood.”
By late afternoon, they reached the bare upper slopes of the mountain where the air freshened. A stiff breeze soon scattered the insects that had followed them into the open. Thankfully, Elerian ended his shield spell, for he had begun to feel a great weariness creeping over him, as if he had labored heavily all day long. The sun beat down upon them like a hammer now that they were out in the open. It heated up the bare rock slopes around them, making them feel as if they were walking through a great oven, and they were plagued by a growing thirst, for there was no water to be had anywhere. The footing was treacherous, all steep slopes and loose stones, forcing them to keep their eyes on the ground. When they did chance to look up, however, they saw four enormous black carrion birds, wheeling in great circles across the blue sky.
