The Dwarf Kingdoms (Book 5) Page 4

  The miles passed quickly and without further incident beneath his light, tireless stride. Only once before reaching the Dwarf road did he catch a flicker of motion in front of him when some wary forest creature fled after detecting his invisible, silent presence. Elerian had only a glimpse of a sleek, reddish brown hide and a long, dark twisted horn before the creature vanished. He found only a single, large cloven footprint on the forest floor to mark the creature’s passage.

  “That was no red deer,” he thought to himself, intrigued by the solitary, gleaming horn that he had seen. Regretfully, he continued on his way, for he had no more time to waste. Soon after that, he struck the Dwarf road again and followed it west, guessing that by now Ascilius and his company of Dwarves were ahead of him. As he ran alongside the road, it appeared empty to his normal sight, but when he overtook the Dwarf column, his third eye revealed the flickering, pale shades of the Dwarves behind the golden veil of the illusion spell which covered them.

  When he reached the head of the column where Ascilius ran alone with head bowed under the weight of his responsibilities and anxieties, Elerian stepped back onto the road, sending away his ring in the same moment. Ascilius and the Dwarves behind him, their nerves already stretched thin, started as Elerian became visible, running easily next to Ascilius’s right shoulder.

  “You could at least cough or give some other warning before appearing so suddenly,” growled Ascilius, his heart pounding.

  “It is much more exciting for both of us this way,” said Elerian cheerfully.

  “We will both have all the excitement we could ever want when we reach Galenus,” said Ascilius gloomily. “Did you see anything of note in the forest?”

  “I met a red haired sorceress and a talking leopardi,” replied Elerian, his gray eyes shining with mischief.

  “You and your mad humor,” said Ascilius shaking his head. “I should know better by now than to ask you a serious question.” He resumed his grim silence, Elerian running beside him, a distant look in his eyes. Only he knew if he dreamt of green eyes or blue as he ran lightly beside Ascilius.

  THE SCOUTING PARTY

  By the time the sun began to set, the Dwarf column had covered half sixty miles to Galenus, and the stoutest among them had begun to tire, for they had not slackened their pace all day. Whenever he glanced back over his left shoulder, Elerian noticed that many of them had begun to direct curious glances his way, for he displayed no sign of the weariness a man would have suffered after such a grueling run.

  Because of the fatigue of the company and because the Goblins were most likely to venture out after the sun went down, Ascilius decided to stop for the night, directing his company to make a cold camp on the road. A heavy guard was set up on the margins of the highway, just inside the illusion which concealed it. After a meager meal, most of the Dwarves wearily cast themselves down to rest, but Ascilius remained awake, calling for a council with the four Dwarves that he had appointed leaders in the company, each of them responsible for a band of forty-nine Dwarves.

  The four captains joined Ascilius and Elerian farther up the road in a place that was out of earshot of the rest of the company. Three of them were older Dwarves with gray in their beards whom Elerian did not recognize. The fourth captain was Falco. He winked at Elerian as he sat down with the others around Ascilius, but the rest of the Dwarves cast distrustful glances his way. Ascilius began speaking in a soft voice that would not carry far, for the illusion protecting them did not conceal sounds.

  “I have given much thought to a battle plan which I now wish to share with you,” he said to the assembled Dwarves and to Elerian. “The road we are following ends at a hidden door which gives access to a passageway that leads to the stables beneath the castella of Galenus. If we succeed in entering the stables through this tunnel without being detected by the Goblins, I will lead an assault on the fortress along with Crito, Falx, and Ennecus. Falco, you will follow Elerian and help him to secure the main gate to the castella.”

  “If the gate is not secured,” objected Ennecus, “there is no way we can hold the fortress even if we wrest it away from the Goblins. I think it would be a better choice if one of us three led the assault on the gate rather than your companion. No human is as hardy or as skilled as a Dwarf in the art of war.”

  “He speaks the truth,” chimed in Crito and Falx together, both of them casting doubtful glances at Elerian.

  “The three of you must trust my judgment,” said Ascilius firmly. “I will have Elerian retake the gate and no other. Once the battle is joined, I promise you that all your doubts about him will be laid to rest.”

  “You are not crowned king yet, but I will bow to your wishes,” said Ennecus reluctantly. “I see no other flaw in your plan save that it is fraught with risk, but the time for caution is gone if we are to save our people.”

  Ascilius turned to Crito and Falx.

  “We will also follow your lead,” said the two Dwarves together.

  “I, too, will follow your lead,” said Falco firmly.

  “Rest while you can then, for we have far to go tomorrow,” said Ascilius soberly. The four Dwarf captains rose at once to seek what rest they could before the dawn, leaving Ascilius and Elerian alone.

  When they were out of earshot, Elerian turned to Ascilius and said softly, “Was that wise? Doubts will sap their strength in the coming battle.”

  “I will trust no one else to secure the entrance to the castella,” said Ascilius firmly. “There will be no trouble, Elerian. Falco approves of you, and the Dwarves in his company will follow his lead, for he is a respected warrior.”

  “I, too, will do as wish then,” said Elerian.

  “You should rest while you can then,” advised Ascilius, his voice suddenly weary. “We will all of us need every bit of strength we possess to prevail in the coming battle.”

  Although he had run all day at Ascilius's right shoulder like a second shadow, Elerian was not tired. The night was fine and the surrounding forest called for him to explore it. “Who knows what else I might see in this strange wood,” he thought to himself, remembering his meeting with the Peregrin.

  “Before I take any rest, I am going to scout the way ahead of us,” he said to Ascilius who had already wrapped himself in his cloak and lain down in the center of the road. Ascilius's eyes glinted with disapproval when he looked up at Elerian, and there was concern in his voice when he spoke.

  “I wish you would take the safer course for once and stay here,” he grumbled.

  “It is too excellent a night to waste,” said Elerian lightly. “The stars are out and there are strange groves nearby that need to be explored.”

  “We are engaged in a grim war, not a walking tour,” replied Ascilius sharply. “It disturbs me to say this, but I am depending on having you by my side tomorrow.”

  “I will be there, never fear,” Elerian assured Ascilius as he shed the greater part of his gear. Taking only his two knives, he faded into the trees south of the road with no more sound than the night breeze makes. Ascilius stared for a moment into the darkness where Elerian had disappeared, a resigned look in his dark eyes.

  “I had best sleep while I can,” he thought grumpily to himself. “He is almost certain to cause some sort of mischief before morning that will need my attention.” Wrapping himself more tightly in his blankets and cloak, he closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep despite the cares and worries that weighed on him.

  In the forest, Elerian had only starlight to see by, but it more than sufficed for his night wise eyes. There was no color to the forest save shades of gray and black, but he could see clearly, even to the twigs and leaves far above him. Tonight he relied only on his native stealth for concealment as his feet took him lightly south, for the invisibility spell cast by his silver ring would act as a beacon in the darkness for those who had the power to see it.

  Although no wind stirred the forest tonight, Elerian was surprised to hear a continual soft whispering of leaves and the
creaking of massive limbs overhead, as if something had somehow animated the ancient trees that surrounded him. Ever hopeful of finding a tree that would speak to him, Elerian tried to coax some of the forest giants into speech, but was met with only the usual silence through which he could detect a sullen anger mingled with fear.

  “The destruction of the groves in the valley by Eboria has no doubt disturbed them,” he thought to himself. From his past experiences, Elerian knew that the trees around him had no doubt felt the agony of their burning comrades through their linked roots. “I hope there are no Ondredon in these groves,” was his next thought. Given the mood of the forest, one of those woody giants would be inclined to crush anything on two legs that it encountered.

  A subtle warmth on Elerian’s left arm suddenly attracted his notice. Pulling back his left sleeve, he saw that the torque that he wore there had come alive. Each twisted silver strand shone with its own light and the emeralds which they held tightly in their grip were filled with a soft green radiance.

  “It is unfortunate that I was never able to question the shade of Dymiter about this band,” Elerian thought regretfully to himself, for what its purpose might be, he still could not guess. On the chance that the mage would appear, Elerian called Dymiter’s spell book to his right hand. He waited expectantly, but the wraith of the Elven mage did not rise from the leather bound book resting on his palm.

  “Perhaps he is angry with me,” thought Elerian to himself. “It must have been a great disappointment to him when I did not make my ring of power according to his instructions.” Hopefully, he tried to open the book to a part that he had not already looked at, but it remained stubbornly closed. “Perhaps he has finally faded away for good, leaving his book sealed for all time,” thought Elerian to himself. An intense frustration swept through him, for it was quite possible that the answer to the mystery of the torque, perhaps even the magic to control the portals that he longed to master now rested in his hand but remained out of his reach. Regretfully he sent the book away and resumed his explorations.

  Traveling southwest, Elerian found that the wood around him remained strangely empty, as if the inhabitants of the forest had hidden themselves until the wrath of the trees subsided. Eventually he found himself near the north bank of the Catalus. Although he could not see the river, Elerian heard the soft murmur of its waters slipping fluidly between its banks.

  “I had best stay away from the river,” he thought to himself as he continued west. “There is no sense in exposing myself to enemy eyes which might be concealed on the far shore.”

  Soon after, Elerian began to think about returning to the Dwarf camp, for the forest remained empty of life. He was on the point of turning around when he suddenly heard harsh, angry voices not far ahead of him. Instantly he froze against the massive trunk of a tall chestnut tree. A careful look around reassured him that there was no enemy nearby.

  “I ought to see who these creatures are and what they are up to,” he thought to himself when he heard the same voices again. After covering a hundred or so feet, drifting silently from the cover of one tree to another, Elerian finally saw five Goblins barely twenty feet away when he slowly advanced his right eye past the fissured bark covering the trunk of a large oak tree. They were standing in two separate and obviously hostile groups. The three Goblins in one alliance were dressed in black leather garments suitable for the forest and carried bows. Two of them were Mordi not much taller than Dwarves, but the third was a slender Uruc who was easily as tall as Elerian. The two Goblins in the second group were also Urucs. Standing apart from the other three, they were unarmed and wore no clothes at all.

  “Lupins fallen victim to their wild ways,” thought Elerian to himself as he observed the pair. He knew from past experience that if a shape changer traveled far enough down the wild path, he eventually abandoned all the trappings of civilization.

  “We're wasting our time, Gorgonius,” grumbled one of the shape changers, subdued anger in his voice and a sullen twist distorting his lean features. “There's nothing here. We risk becoming dragon bait for no good reason.”

  “Show some backbone Roscius,” urged the Uruc who appeared to be the leader of the small band. Beneath the collar of his leather tunic, Elerian saw a bit of thin, unadorned iron.

  “This one wears one of Torquatus’s collars,” he thought to himself. “He will be the most dangerous of the five.”

  “Our orders are to investigate the country on this side of the river, and we had better do it,” continued Gorgonius. “There have been some odd goings on about Ennodius. Our spies in the forest have seen the dragon flying about and setting fires. Something has annoyed her, and Mercator wants to know what it is. He will flay us all alive if we do a slipshod job and miss something important out here.”

  “If there are Dwarves in the forest, the spies will see them,” objected Roscius. “There’s no need for us to risk our necks, too. What do you say Baro?” he asked, tuning to the naked Uruc standing next to him.

  “I think we are wasting our time,” snarled Baro. “That's what I say. No enemies, no game, no meat of any kind!” He bared his pointed teeth in a ferocious scowl. “Not like when we first came here, eh Roscius. There was good hunting then for the Dwarves trapped outside the walls of the city. Remember how the little ones squealed when we pulled them from their tunnels?”

  Roscius grinned and licked his lips. “They shrieked like little rabbits when laid our claws on them. That was fine sport with tender meat at the end of it, but it is all ended now since the cursed dragon fired most of the valley.”

  “That's enough talk,” said Gorgonius harshly, his patience finally wearing thin. “We're not out here for sport tonight. We'll hole up before the cursed sun rises, but first we’ll search higher up into the hills. There’s a road of sorts that runs up there out of sight under the trees.”

  “It is being watched already,” said Roscius in a sullen voice. “I would rather hunt for the rest of the night. Even the blood of a rabbit would be welcome now.”

  “You two will follow me, or I swear you will end up in the cook pots come morning,” threatened Gorgonius angrily. “Eyes can be tricked, but your noses will scent out any deception.”

  Gorgonius glared at the two rebellious shape changers, but they refused to meet his eyes. Grumbling under their breath, they both dropped to all fours. Their shapes altered, flowing like water. Moments later, they had taken on the forms of shaggy black lupins. Their pale eyes glittered coldly in the starlight as they glowered up at Gorgonius. Luckily the air was still, so they did not catch Elerian’s scent.

  “If we find no prey in the hills then perhaps Goblin meat will have to do,” said Roscius in a hoarse, snarly voice. His mouth opened and his red tongue lolled out over sharp white teeth so that he appeared to be grinning. Gorgonius laughed nastily in response and a long, black bladed knife suddenly appeared in his right hand.

  “Try me whenever you like Roscius. I'll make a rug and dinner out of you before you set one fang in my flesh.”

  The two lupins snarled and crouched, ready to spring, but when the Mordi standing behind Gorgonius knocked arrows to their bowstrings and drew them back to the their black fletching, they both slunk away into the forest to the north with their tails between their legs. Gorgonius spat on the ground where the lupins had stood a moment before and sheathed his knife.

  “Those two will bear watching,” he said to the two Mordi standing behind and on either side of him. “They've made no kills lately, and their blood lust will be running strong. We'll follow them but not too closely. Keep your bows ready.”

  Making no more sound than shadows, the three Goblins spread out and began to walk in the same direction taken by the lupins. Behind his oak tree, Elerian hesitated a moment, unsure of what to do next.

  “I should have come better prepared,” he silently berated himself. “A bow would have been more useful than my two knives. Still, I must do what I can. With their keens noses, the lupins are
almost certain to discover Ascilius’s company. If the Goblins report to their commander that there are Dwarves afoot in the forest all is lost.”

  Taking care not to make the slightest sound, Elerian began to follow the enemy scouts.

  A BRUSH WITH DEATH

  Unaware that they were being followed, the two Mordi archers gradually fell back until they were out of earshot of the Uruc leading them. Elerian could not help but admire the way they slipped silently through the forest, as at home in it as any of the wild creatures that lived there. Their pointed ears and dark eyes kept them informed of all that went on around them, but they were not sufficiently keen to detect the deadly foe who followed so closely behind them.

  “I wish we could slip away from here and be on our own, Brada,” Elerian heard one of the Wood Goblins whisper softly. “I grow weary of being under the thumb of these high and mighty Urucs. We Mordi toil and die while they stand by and garner all the rewards. Torquatus ever favors his Urucs over the poor Wood Goblins.”

  “He gives us Man meat and Dwarf to eat, Lurio,” Brada reminded his companion. “What could be better?”

  “Meat that is not thin and starved,” hissed Lurio angrily. “These slaves they give us are so far gone they barely jump when you stick a knife in them, and the flesh is wasted from their bones. I want fresh, plump meat that screams and bleeds when you torture it. What better sauce is there for the appetite than the fear and horror engendered in a fit captive by a proper flaying, a slow roast over the coals, fingernails plucked slowly and delicately one by one, or the crunch of bones slowly broken?”

  Unseen and unheard, Elerian watched with disgust as Lurio licked his thin lips and fangs with a long, pointed tongue, as if remembering past feasts and the tortures associated with them.

  “I agree with you,” replied Brada hungrily, “but remember that Torquatus destroyed the Elves who were our chief enemies and that soon he will rule all of the Middle Realm. Even the Mordi will share in the bounty then.”