The Warrior (The Hidden Realm)

by A. Giannetti

  “As long as I am not wearing the manacles or making an attempt to force them open magically, the charm does not react to me,” thought Elerian to himself excitedly.

  Withdrawing his shade, he quickly fashioned a counter spell based on what he had learned.

  Ascilius, who had watched the whole procedure with dull, hopeless eyes, saw Elerian raise his right hand.

  “Do not waste your time,” he said impatiently, knowing that Elerian was about to cast a spell. “Flee while you still can!”

  Ignoring Ascilius, Elerian cast his spell, watching hopefully with his third eye, as a small orb of golden light left his right hand, striking and enveloping the manacle around Ascilius’s right wrist. A sharp click rang out in the silence of the chamber as Elerian’s magical key opened the lock holding the manacle closed. The circle of steel fell away with a rattle of chains.

  Elerian and Ascilius stared at each other in astonishment for a moment, hardly able to believe the manacle had opened. Then, one by one, Elerian quickly freed Ascilius from the other three shackles that held him captive. As the last one fell away, the Dwarf leaped away from the wall and lifted Elerian in bear hug that threatened to break all the bones in his back.

  “You did it!” he shouted joyfully.

  “Put me down before you break me in two,” shouted Elerian.

  He ruefully arched his back to see if his spine was still intact after Ascilius set him on his feet once more.

  “A simple thank you will suffice next time,” he said to Ascilius, who was now happily stuffing all of their scattered belongings into their two packs.

  “There will be no next time unless we put some distance between ourselves and this room as soon as possible,” said Ascilius sharply as he handed Elerian his knife. “We must go now before Torquatus returns,” he said urgently as he walked toward the door to the chamber, carrying his ax and both of their packs. He stopped impatiently in the doorframe, for instead of leaving the room, Elerian was now bent over the prisoner lying motionless on the floor.

  “Leave him,” said Ascilius sharply. “I warned you before that using a magical weapon can be fatal, especially for humans. The blade he used to strike Torquatus has drained him of his life force.”

  Elerian looked down sadly at the man who had saved his life. He lay still as death on the floor with no movement in his chest to indicate that life still lingered in his body. Then, Elerian noticed that the handle of the ruined knife, which the Tarsi still held in his right hand, was flickering with a pale white light.

  “He is alive, Ascilius,” said Elerian in surprise. To be certain, he opened his third eye. The Tarsi disappeared. Instead of a body, Elerian saw a dim golden shade lying on the floor.

  “He will not last much longer,” insisted Ascilius. “He will die, and we will die alongside him if we do not leave immediately.”

  Ignoring Ascilius, Elerian knelt by the Tarsi. He pried the jeweled handle of Ascilius’s knife from the man’s clenched right hand to stop the drain on his life force, tucking the jeweled hilt into the same pocket that held his own ruined knife. He was not sure what he would do with the hilts, but he was loath to abandon them because of the argentum in the handles.

  Slowly, the Tarsi’s shade took on a stronger glow. Closing his third eye, Elerian rose wearily to his feet. It was all he could do to stand.

  “He will not die now that the knife hilt is out of his hand,” said Elerian to Ascilius. “We must take him with us. He saved both our lives when he struck at Torquatus with your knife. We cannot leave him here for the Goblins to find.”

  “He will be a burden to us, even if he recovers,” said Ascilius stubbornly. “Besides, you seem none to healthy yourself. I cannot carry both of you.”

  “If you will not carry him, then I will,” said Elerian.

  Ignoring Ascilius’s protests, he bent down to lift the prisoner onto his right shoulder. A sudden wave of weariness washed over him, and he almost fell.

  “Wait, you stubborn fool,” shouted Ascilius in alarm. “I will carry him, he said grudgingly, “but I will cast him aside as soon as you start to fall behind him. I will not save him at the cost of your life,” he said fiercely.

  Grumbling to himself, Ascilius picked the unconscious prisoner and threw him over his left shoulder as if he weighed nothing at all. In his strong right hand, he took up both the packs and his ax.

  “I can carry my own pack,” said Elerian as the moment of weakness passed.

  “You will be lucky if you can carry yourself,” said Ascilius harshly.

  He lit a small mage light, which took up a position above his head, then turned and hurried through the doorway. Elerian followed close behind him, a small smile of triumph curling his lips.

  THE LAKE

  Elerian followed Ascilius back to the passageway which led to the bridge where they had encountered the lentulus. When Ascilius reached it, he turned to the right, heading away from the bridge.

  “We must continue east,” he said to Elerian over his shoulder as they fled down the wide tunnel.

  Despite his heavy burden, Ascilius set a stiff pace that Elerian had difficulty maintaining, although he made no complaint. There was still no sound of any pursuit behind them, and Elerian began to hope that perhaps Ascilius was wrong and that Torquatus had succumbed to his wounds.

  They ran in silence for what seemed a long time to Elerian. As he struggled to put one weary foot in front of the other, he suddenly heard the first faint baying of canigrae in the passageway behind them.

  “The chase has begun,” said Elerian to Ascilius.

  “This will not do,” said Ascilius, for he, too, now heard the baying of the Goblin hounds. “We will never outrun the Goblins if we continue carrying this man with us. You are already at the limits of your strength,” he said, giving Elerian a shrewd look.

  “I will not leave him behind,” said Elerian stubbornly.

  “You are a fool,” said Ascilius harshly, but he continued to carry the unconscious prisoner. They fled down endless dark tunnels with the sound of their pursuers growing ever closer. Ascilius’s breathing grew more labored as his burden began to tax even his great strength. Elerian was fighting an unaccustomed heaviness in his limbs, for Torquatus’s ring and the spells he had cast in the torture room had severely weakened him.

  With no warning, they burst out into another large cavern. Ascilius immediately brightened his mage light, and Elerian saw a second bridge before them. A hundred feet long, it arched over a deep chasm in the stone floor of the cavern. Elerian judged it was fifteen feet wide, with low curbs on both sides.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Ascilius ran across the bridge, looking neither to the right nor to the left. Elerian ran close behind him, wondering how much farther he could run before exhaustion forced him to stop.

  Once he reached the far side of the bridge, Ascilius put down the unconscious prisoner and the two packs that he carried. He was breathing heavily, and Elerian wondered if his strength was giving out too.

  “Leave the Tarsi with me and go on by yourself,” he said tiredly to Ascilius. “There is no sense in all three of us being captured.”

  “Buy me some time with your bow,” said Ascilius to Elerian, as if he had not heard a word. “I have something I must do across the bridge.”

  Before Elerian could object, Ascilius set off for the far side of the bridge again, leaving Elerian to string his bow and set an arrow to his bowstring. Luckily, the Goblins had left it with his pack, along with his sword. Eleven arrows remained in his quiver.

  “I will not be able to hold off our pursuers for long with so few arrows,” Elerian thought to himself worriedly as he watched Ascilius run back across the bridge. “What is he intending to do over there, I wonder?”

  Brightly illuminated by his mage light, Ascilius had positioned himself near the end of the bridge, at the point where it joined the side of the chasm. Elerian saw him lift his right hand, as if he was casting a spell. Opening his third eye, Eler
ian saw a shaft of golden light flowing from Ascilius’s hand to the bridgehead. The Dwarf was casting a lengthy spell, but what its purpose was, he could not guess.

  So absorbed was Ascilius with his task that he failed to even look up when the first canigrae appeared in the tunnel entrance in front of him. The savage creature howled excitedly when it saw Ascilius. Eyes burning like coals, it rushed toward the Dwarf, covering the ground in great leaps.

  Carefully, knowing that he could not afford to miss, Elerian drew back his bowstring and released his first arrow. It flashed across the bridge, burying itself in the Goblin hound’s throat. The canigrae tumbled head over heels, falling dead almost at Ascilius’s feet. Ascilius ignored the dead hound, remaining bent over the bridge, as if he had not a care in the world.

  Three more hounds suddenly bounded out of the tunnel entrance. With desperate speed, Elerian shot three arrows, one after the other. Just before it died from the arrow in its throat, the last canigrae actually reached Ascilius, seizing his right ankle in its jaws. Seemingly unconcerned by the growing pile of bodies around him, Ascilius straightened up, shook the dead hound’s jaws off his ankle, and ran back across the bridge just as a great crowd of Mordi and canigrae appeared at the tunnel entrance. With a great outcry, the whole pack of them set off after the Dwarf.

  “Hold them off a bit,” said Ascilius breathlessly to Elerian when he reached the far side of the bridge. Elerian ground his teeth in frustration as the Dwarf stood motionless near the bridgehead, repeating the spell that he had cast on the far side.

  “He had better be quick,” thought Elerian to himself. “Seven arrows will not hold off that crowd on the bridge for long.”

  Standing alone on the bridgehead, Elerian brought down another canigrae and a half dozen Goblins with his arrows in the space of a few heartbeats, causing the remaining Goblins on the bridge to fall back in dismay. He had gained only a brief respite, however, for those among the Mordi who carried shields came to the forefront, forming a barrier of steel in front of their fellows. Unaware that Elerian had no more arrows, the whole band slowly began to cross the bridge once more, this time behind the protection of their shields.

  “Once they realize that I have no more arrows, they will rush across and overwhelm us,” thought Elerian despairingly to himself.

  He was at the point of drawing his sword and stepping out onto the bridge to make a last stand when Ascilius abruptly said,” Step back. I am finished.”

  Realizing, by then, that Elerian was out of arrows, the Goblins lowered their shields and began to run across the last fifty feet of bridge that separated them from Elerian and Ascilius. As he retreated from the bridgehead, Elerian could see their dark eyes gleaming with anticipation in their pale faces. He had no idea what Ascilius intended to do, but if his plan failed, then the three of them were doomed.

  Lifting his right arm, Ascilius shouted “Ruina!” in a deep, commanding voice.

  With a thunderous crack, the last five feet of the bridge in front of him fractured into small pieces, which fell into the depths below. On the far side of the bridge, there was an answering rumble of stone. With nothing left to support it, the intact center part of the bridge fell into the chasm, carrying the screaming Goblins to certain death in the abyss below. A few tried to leap from the bridge to the edge of the chasm, but they either fell short or met a quick end at the edges of Ascilius’s ax and Elerian’s sword.

  When the last scream and rumble of rock faded away to silence, Ascilius turned to Elerian and said wearily, “We are safe for now.”

  Elerian saw beads of sweat on the Dwarf’s brow, the result of his exertions and the narrowness of their escape. Just then, a great shout of anger drew his and Ascilius’s attention back across the chasm. A great throng of Mordi carrying torches had gathered at the edge of the precipice. Elerian saw that many of them had bows in their hands.

  “Put out your light and run!” he shouted to Ascilius.

  Ascilius’s mage light winked out just before scores of black feathered flew across the chasm, filling the air with an ugly hissing sound. Ascilius flung the still unconscious prisoner over his shoulder while Elerian snatched up the packs, and they fled with all the speed they could muster, arrows rattling down on the stone where they had stood just moments before. Guided by the dim light cast by the Goblin torches, Elerian and Ascilius followed the road that ran east from the bridgehead. Before long, it led them into a large tunnel on the far side of the cavern. As soon as he was certain they were out of sight of the Goblins, Ascilius stopped and lit another small mage light, illuminating the tunnel around them.

  Elerian saw that it was of a good size, at least a dozen feet high and just as wide. The walls were rough hewn, but the floor was smooth and level. At a slow walk, for even Ascilius was tired now, they went on, side by side. Elerian could not hear any sounds of a pursuit behind them.

  “Will they be able to follow us by another route?” he asked Ascilius?”

  “I am not certain,” said Ascilius. “When I lived in the city, the bridge across the chasm was the only way to reach this tunnel, but who knows what changes the Goblins have made in the years since the city fell. The dungeon you rescued me from was certainly new work.”

  Elerian listened for a moment, but all remained quiet behind them.

  “How did you destroy the bridge, Ascilius?” he asked curiously. “I thought the stone had been rendered indestructible.”

  “I reversed the spell which hardened it, just as I did with your stone knife,” said Ascilius. “It took longer, for there was a great deal more stone to alter, but when I was done, there was a weak link on both sides of the bridge. When I shattered the bridgehead on our side of the chasm, the weakened stone on the far side was unable to support the weight of the bridge, and the whole structure gave way.”

  “It was a clever trap,” said Elerian admiringly. “The Goblins never guessed what you were about.”

  “A Dwarf, like a badger, is most dangerous in his own hole,” said Ascilius smugly. “I have certainly evened the score a bit for the time I spent in their mines,” he said with satisfaction as he tallied up in his head the large number of Goblins the bridge had carried to their deaths at the bottom of the chasm.

  The tunnel they followed now began to slope noticeably downward. It was hard to judge the passage of time underground, but Elerian guessed they must have walked nearly an hour when they suddenly entered another large chamber. He and Ascilius paused to look around them.

  Ascilius’s small light revealed the dark waters of an underground lake on their right. The still waters stretched off out of sight into the depths of the cavern. The road continued on before them, along the left-hand side of the lake, where there was a narrow, stony shore between the edge of the lake and the wall of the cavern. A thick silence filled the air. Not a single ripple disturbed the still, dark surface of the lake.

  “Not a place I would venture into if I had a choice,” thought Elerian uneasily to himself. There was a hidden menace about the dark waters on his right.

  “I wonder if this fellow is still alive?” said Ascilius unexpectedly and wearily. “I have not felt him stir once in all the time that I have carried him.”

  “Let me have a look at him,” said Elerian at once, even though he now felt exhausted. “I should have checked on him long before this,” he thought guiltily to himself.

  Ascilius laid the prisoner on the ground, grateful to be free of the burden that he had carried for so long. Elerian briefly opened his third eye and saw that the Tarsi’s shade, though still pale, gave off a steady golden light.

  He is weak but still alive,” said Elerian to Ascilius as he wrapped the Tarsi in his own warm wolf skin cloak. He also retrieved from his pack the soft shoes that Ascilius had discarded in the Broken Lands. With a few alterations, they fit the barefoot prisoner well. “Do you think it is safe to stop here?” Elerian asked Ascilius uneasily as he looked behind him over his left shoulder at the dark waters of the nearby
lake.

  “Nothing will bother us down here,” said Ascilius positively. “I was down here many times when I lived in Calenus. There is a mine on the far side of the lake where we would go to dig for gems. That is why the road was built along the lakeshore.”

  Untroubled by any of the concern expressed by Elerian, Ascilius sat wearily down on the ground by the prisoner they had rescued. Taking a strip of dried meat from his pack, he began to chew on the tough but tasty meat. Elerian sat down beside him, dividing his attention between the Tarsi and the dark waters of the lake.

  “What happened when Torquatus attacked you?” asked Ascilius. “I saw you lying on the floor in front of him, seemingly in great pain.” Lacking the third eye, Ascilius had seen nothing of the magical attack the Goblin king had launched against Elerian.

  “A shaft of red light shot from Torquatus’s ring when he raised his right hand,” said Elerian quietly to Ascilius. “It pierced me like a spear and held me captive while it drew out my life force, sending it back to Torquatus’s ring. If the Tarsi had not struck Torquatus with your knife, I would be dead now, and you would be toasting merrily over a fire like a chestnut on a grate.”

  “Do not joke about that,” said Ascilius with a shiver.

  “I was not joking,” said Elerian grimly. “My point is that we owe this prisoner a great deal.”

  “Well, I have more than repaid my debt by carrying him this far,” said Ascilius emphatically.

  Suddenly, the Tarsi stirred and sat up between them with a bewildered look on his face.

  “Where am I and who are you?” he asked in a confused voice in the common tongue.