The Quest (The Hidden Realm Book 5)

by A. Giannetti

  “How frail and tired they look,” thought Elerian to himself as he noted their somber expressions. “They, too, have difficulties and sorrows to contend with,” he thought to himself, feeling a sudden rush of sympathy for the ancient Dwarves.

  “Seat yourselves,” said Dardanus to Elerian, Ascilius, and Dacien. “Before the three of you make a final decision to enter the passageway behind the Black Gate all three of you should know its history. Ascilius knows some of the story, but it will not hurt him to hear it again.” After waiting until Elerian, Ascilius, and Dacien had seated themselves in three empty chairs before the fire, Dardanus began to speak in his deep voice.

  “When my brothers and I came out of the west, we accompanied the Elves as far as the pass through the Eunapius. They left us then, for when they looked south at the land between the Elvorix and the Gavius, they were determined to search no further for a home. They went down into the country which they later named Fimbria, but my brothers and I were drawn to the snow-capped mountains we could see in the distance to the east.

  “We crossed the Gavius and continued on to the foot of the mountains which we later named the Trofim. There we found a valley that led us deep into the mountain range, but when we came to the end of it, we could find no way to scale the snowcapped peaks that lay at the head of it. We did, however, find the entrance to a large cave at the base of a cliff at the head of the valley which stirred up a great deal of curiosity among us. I dispatched scouts to explore it, and after a time, they returned with the news that the cave led far under the mountains.

  “The sun began to set as we debated what course to follow. Some wanted to go back. Others wanted to explore the cave to determine if it would make a suitable home for us. Suddenly and unexpectedly a strong force of Trolls attacked our encampment as the last light faded, rushing down from the forested foothills that rimmed the valley. While my warriors and I held off the Trolls, my brothers led the rest of our people deeper into the passageway along with our ponies and what few things they were able to quickly load on them. When all were inside, my warriors and I followed them, fighting a running battle with the Trolls. We held our own until we reached a great cavern. Here, the advantage turned to the Trolls, for they had room to move about now and came at us from all sides at once. We were in danger of being overwhelmed when a strange and terrifying creature suddenly appeared in the midst of the battle. I never saw it clearly, for it was never more than a shadow in the dark, but it breathed a black fire which burned all around it, and its bite exuded a deadly poison that felled its victims in their tracks. Even our magical swords failed to injure it, and its strength was such that even the Trolls could not stand against it. Worst of all was the uncontrollable terror which it inspired in all who looked upon it. I am ashamed to say that we ran, and the strong did not wait for the weak, for the terror we felt turned us into frightened children fleeing the dark. It was the Trolls who saved us from the Dwarf bane, although it was not their intention. They fled from the cavern back to the outside world, and I think the creature pursed them instead of us, for we did not see it again. By the time we came to a second large cavern our mindless panic had subsided. When we saw that nothing pursued us, my brothers and I gathered together all who had survived. There was no thought of going back, so we continued on as swiftly as we could, carrying our wounded with us. The passageway resumed on the far side of the cavern. When we reached the end of it, we found the Caldaria before us. After sealing the entrance to the tunnel, we chose a fair mountain in the northern part of the valley, which we named Calidius, to become our home. Our troubles were not over, however. The nameless creature under the mountains seemed able to gnaw through stone like some enormous worm, for eventually, it broke through the wall we had used to seal the entrance to the passageway. The nights became hideous, for each day, as soon as the sun’s light faded, it emerged from the passageway to seek out new victims.

  “Working feverishly in our new smithies beneath Calidius, we made a steel door forged with many a spell of containment. It was set across the tunnel entrance and the rock around it hardened with spells. After that, the creature finally seemed contained, but a watch was still kept on the gates at all times. At first the sentries told of noises from beneath the mountain, as if something tried occasionally to break down the door but then nothing was heard for many years. Centuries passed and one day I began to wonder if the creature still haunted the passageway. Thinking that it might be useful to have a second way out of the valley, I asked six brave Dwarves to explore the tunnel. They were more than willing, for by that time, few of the younger Dwarves believed the stories told about the passageway. Of the six who went under the mountains, only one returned.” At this point, Dardanus signaled to one of his retainers. He immediately left the room, returning a moment later with a Dwarf who had snow-white hair and a long white beard. He leaned heavily on the arm of the retainer as he shuffled along, his dark eyes, which shone with a wild light, darting uncontrollably about the chamber.

  “Corbulo, here, was one of the volunteers and the only one who returned,” said Dardanus sadly as he continued his narrative. “He has not spoken since the day he emerged from the passageway and cannot abide the dark for even a moment. He is no older than Ascilius, but the terror of his experience has aged him beyond his years.”

  The mad Dwarf immediately roused Elerian’s pity. Rising out of his chair, he approached Corbulo with a light step. Gently clasping the Dwarf’s frail left shoulder with his own long right hand, he looked into Corbulo’s dark, restless eyes. As he sent his healing power into the Dwarf, both Corbulo and Elerian grew still, losing touch with their surroundings and sinking deep into a trancelike state. Dardanus and the others waited in silence as long moments passed with no movement at all from either Elerian or Corbulo. Eonis was the first to become restless.

  “What is he about?” he grumbled softly to Dardanus. “Has poor Corbulo not suffered enough? Why subject him to this sorcery?”

  Eonis fell silent when Elerian suddenly removed his hand from Corbulo’s shoulder. Like one newly awakened, the Dwarf looked about him, his haggard face reflecting the confusion he felt. With a step that was not quite steady, Elerian walked back to his chair and sagged into it. His face was pale, as one who has seen some awful sight, and when he raised the wine glass that Dardanus offered him to his lips, his hand trembled slightly. After a long swallow and a longer breath, he spoke to Dardanus in a weary voice.

  “I have removed Corbulo’s memories of the passageway. With time and care, strength and sanity may return to him.”

  “My thanks to you, Elerian,” said Dardanus gratefully. “His condition has weighed heavily on me since it was at my request that he entered the passageway. Were you able to discover what terrorized his mind for so many years?” Elerian drained his glass with a hand that was steadier now.

  “I saw only an indistinct image that I could make no sense of. The words, ‘Beware the hag with two faces,’ were repeated over and over in his mind, as if he sought to warn me of some danger.”

  “We encountered no hag in the passageway, only the strange creature that slew Dwarves and Trolls alike,” said Dardanus in a puzzled voice. “Poor Corbulo’s addled mind may have confused his nightmares with reality, imagining that he saw some old beldam in the darkness. Be that as it may, the three of you now know the history and dangers of the passageway. Are you still determined to travel through it?”

  “I am,” replied Elerian firmly to the Dwarf king’s query.

  “I, too, will dare the passageway,” volunteered Dacien.

  “And I also,” said Ascilius in his deep voice.

  “It is a mistake to let these three fools open the Black Gate, brother,” Eonis remonstrated, his voice full of disapproval. “If the creature still lurks in the tunnel, they will never see the light of day again if they enter its domain. It may even escape again once the door is open, bringing ruin to our kingdom.”

  “I have already given my permission, Eonis an
d I will not rescind it,” said Dardanus mildly. “These three are embarking on a noble quest and are deserving of all the aid we can give them.”

  “A fool’s errand rather,” muttered Eonis sarcastically to himself, but he made no more objections aloud.

  Turning back to Elerian, Dardanus spoke to him again. “I do not wish to try your patience with further talk, but if you win through the passageway, it will be to your advantage to know somewhat of the lands that lie to the west of it. At the western end of the tunnel, you will find a long valley that is full of large rocks and surrounded by steep mountains. Proceed with caution through that place, for there may still be Trolls living in the heights that surround it. Six days of brisk walking will bring you to the banks of the Arvina and the end of the valley. Cross the river where you can and travel west through the mountains, once again keeping watch for Trolls. Two days travel, will bring you to a pass between two peaks. Beyond it lies the edge of the Broken Lands which men call Terra Fractus.”

  “I am familiar with the Broken Lands, having passed through them before when Ascilius and I escaped from Nefandus,” said Elerian quietly. He kept his face impassive, but his heart had sunk at the mention of more than eight days of travel just to reach the Broken Lands, each day another day of torment for Anthea.

  “I will say no more then,” said Dardanus. “Is there anything that you require, Elerian, before you leave Iulius?”

  “You have already been more than generous,” replied Elerian. “I ask only that you keep this in case I return for it.” Elerian handed Dardanus the leather saddlebags laden with the necklace and the other treasure that Dardanus had given him.

  “I will keep them safe against your return,” Dardanus assured Elerian.

  “You may as well return those riches to your treasury,” said Eonis crustily. “He will never return to claim them.” Dardanus turned and frowned impatiently at his brother.

  “Your words are ungracious Eonis and do not reflect well on you,” he said in mild rebuke.

  “I will speak the truth no matter how blunt it may sound,” replied Eonis stubbornly.

  With a look of resignation on his craggy face, Dardanus turned back to the three companions. “Pay no attention to my brother, for he has suffered much lately. As for myself, I give the three of you my blessing. May it keep you safe on your quest which I hope will be successful despite the grave dangers that you face.” Solemnly, he clasped forearms with Elerian and Dacien but Ascilius he embraced. Eonis looked moodily into the fire the whole time.

  “Uncle what of us,” said Cordus, unexpectedly rising out of his chair. His brother stood up beside him. The two were as alike as could be, with dark hair and eyes and brown beards that flowed down over their belts. “Cyricus and I also wish to accompany Ascilius.”

  “I forbid it!” shouted Eonis at once. “You will not throw away your lives in this mad venture.” His two sons stood stubbornly before him, their resolve in no way weakened by his angry disapproval.

  “Tales will be told and songs sung of this quest, father,” said Cyricus. “Cordus and I wish to have our names mentioned in them.”

  “Let one stay and one go,” suggested Dardanus to Eonis.

  “We have not been separated in our whole life,” objected Cyricus at once. “We will go together and make our part in the heroes' tales to come.”

  “If you survive the passageway, you are both more likely to end up in some Troll's cook pot than to become heroes,” shouted Eonis in exasperation. “On the slim chance that you do succeed, how will you return to Iulius?”

  “Torquatus will not expect us to travel west, therefore we will first cross the Murus if we succeed in freeing Anthea from her prison,” interjected Ascilius, unflinchingly meeting the angry glare Eonis directed his way. “The Goblins rule the lands beyond the mountains, but I have it on good authority that they are spread thin. The small company that I plan to lead should have no trouble reaching the western seacoast where a ship can be bought or stolen. It should be no great feat after that to sail south to Tarsius and return through that country to the east pass through the Nivalis. Cordus and Cyricus can then enter the Caldaria through the eastern passageway which still remains a secret to the Goblins.” More arguing between Eonis and his sons immediately followed Ascilius’s words. Secretly, Ascilius hoped that his uncle would prevail, for he had thought to take Falco with him on the quest.

  “He would be the better choice to accompany us,” he thought to himself. “These two young fellows fought well in the retreat from Galenus, but we may encounter more than pitched battles in the dangerous adventure we are embarking on. Who knows how they will react in the face of magical assaults?” Despite his misgivings, Ascilius kept his doubts to himself, however, unwilling to deny his cousins their chance for adventure if they could convince their father to let them go.

  In the end Cordus and Cyricus had their way. Looking defeated and miserable, Eonis finally gave them permission to accompany Ascilius. Heedless of their father's grief, the eyes of the two young Dwarves flashed with excitement at the thought of the adventures ahead of them

  “If all is settled, we will be on our way then,” said Ascilius quietly to Dardanus. “May we meet again in better times.” His face drawn into somber lines, he led his small company from the room, leaving his uncles to sit in pensive silence by the fire, one hopeful of a good outcome to Elerian’s quest, and the other already grieving, for he had no expectation that his sons would ever return alive to Iulius.

  THE DEPARTURE

  Ascilius stopped first at the chambers where Dacien and Elerian had left their weapons. He then led his two companions to the stables by a circuitous route that kept them out of the public eye. To keep his whereabouts even more of a secret, Elerian cast an illusion over himself and Dacien, giving them both the appearance of middle-aged Dwarves, their brown hair and beards lightly speckled with gray. When they arrived at the stables, Ascilius led Dacien and Elerian to a deserted potion of the chamber where two carriages, each drawn by a pair of sleek black ponies, were waiting for them on one of the alleys that ran between the stalls. Falco stood by the door to the second carriage, and a driver sat on the front seat of each vehicle, Dwarves Ascilius knew and trusted.

  “Your packs are already inside the carriage boots,” said Falco to Ascilius as he approached the carriage. Neither Falco nor anyone else was aware that, at that moment, they were being watched from behind a nearby pillar by a pair of cold black eyes. Having gotten wind of Ascilius’s meeting with his uncles, a meeting to which he had not been invited, Herias had followed him and his two companions after they left the king’s chambers. Adept at magic of a kind that Dwarves normally took no interest in, he had cast an illusion spell over himself, disguising himself as a large rat so that he would not attract undue attention as he scurried from one shadowed recess to another. He strained his ears now as Ascilius began to speak.

  “Meet the sixth member of our company,” said Ascilius to the others as he opened the door to the second carriage. Triarus, the slave Ascilius had rescued during the retreat from Galenus, hesitantly stepped down out of the vehicle. His long black hair and beard had been washed and cut, and he was dressed in decent brown pants and a brown hooded tunic of linen.

  “I asked Triarus to accompany us,” said Ascilius to his companions. “He wishes to return home, and his knowledge of the lands west of the Murus will be helpful to us. It was he who helped me plan our escape route from the mountains to the western sea.” Behind his pillar, Herias’s ears pricked up.

  “Why is Ascilius planning to travel over the Murus with the sons of Eonis?” he wondered to himself. “What is his purpose and who are the strangers with him, I wonder? I do not recognize the human or the other Dwarves by his side.”

  After the members of the company greeted Triarus, they took seats in the carriages. Elerian and Dacien entered the second vehicle with Triarus. Cordus and Cyricus sat next to each other in the first carriage. Ascilius now drew close to Falco
, as if he wished their conversation to be as private as possible. When he began to speak, Herias eased farther around his pillar, seeking to hear him better.

  “Keep watch over my uncles and Herias,” said Ascilius softly to Falco.

  “I had rather go with you,” replied Falco. “It seems that I alone am eternally fated to be the one who is left behind,” he observed in a melancholy voice.

  “Left to my own devices, I would have gladly taken you with me,” replied Ascilius uncomfortably. “The matter was taken out of my hands when Eonis gave Cordus and Cyricus permission to accompany me. You must remain behind now, for you are the last of our house besides Herias. He is clever, but he is no warrior and would make a poor king in these troubled times. If anything happens to my uncles, you must help him with the defense of Iulius. It is an important role,” Ascilius assured Falco guiltily.

  “Trade places with me then,” said Falco with a sudden twinkle in his eyes. Ascilius looked so uncomfortable at the suggestion that Falco smiled. “Go, I but jest,” he said, warmly clasping forearms with Ascilius. “Good luck to you and all your companions.” As Ascilius turned to enter the first carriage, a flicker of motion caught his right eye as Herias retreated behind his pillar.

  Herias started when Ascilius said with a frown, “I think there is a rat behind that pillar Falco.”

  “Arturo will deal with him,” replied Falco, calling over, with a soft, sibilant sound, one of the cats that prowled the stables. The brindled feline that came to Falco’s call was easily forty pounds in weight with claws and teeth to match its size, for Dwarf cats are larger than those that are kept by men.