by A. Giannetti
ESCAPE FROM CALENUS
Elerian was not affected by the glamour that overcame his companions; for at the first sight of the creature across the river, he had closed his mind to its influence by casting a shield spell over himself. Grasping Ascilius and Dacien by the shoulders, Elerian kept them from running off while he extended his shield spell to cover both of them. As the compulsion that gripped them vanished, Ascilius and Dacien stopped struggling against the iron grip that Elerian had on each of their shoulders.
Opening his third eye, Elerian saw the indistinct red haze of an illusion in place of the silvery horse across the river. Springing from the illusion was a scarlet strand resembling a wisp of mist that extended across the river, ending in three tendrils that were groping and probing uselessly at each of the companions’ faces as the water horse’s glamour sought to find a way past Elerian’s golden shield spell.
“Unless there are two of the creatures, the undine appears to have followed us out from under the mountain,” said Elerian to Ascilius and Dacien after they recovered their senses. “The creature seems determined to have a bite out you, Ascilius,” he said dryly.
“We dare not set foot in the water then,” said Ascilius, glaring balefully at the water horse prancing in the meadow across the river and wishing that he had his ax again.
“Perhaps the high road of the forest would serve us better,” said Elerian as he glanced at the massive branches overhead. In places, they formed a narrow, woody path across the river.
“I will take my chances with the water horse first,” replied Ascilius, shuddering at the thought of inching his way over the branches high overhead. “You would have me hanging by my beard before I walked a dozen feet and think it the greatest sport in the world,” he said accusingly to Elerian.
The thought of Ascilius hanging by his beard brought a gleam to Elerian’s eyes that thoroughly alarmed the Dwarf. He resolved to keep both feet firmly on the ground, no matter what the circumstances.
“Keep still,” Elerian suddenly whispered.
Across the river, the water horse had stopped its prancing. Turning away from them, it stood stock still, its attention riveted on the edge of the forest at the south side of the meadow. A pack of black, wolf like creatures suddenly leaped out from between the trees.
With a loud snort of alarm, the undine bolted for the river. Its form turned sinuous and snakelike as it ended its illusion, revealing its true form. Baying discordantly, the canigrae raced after it, red tongues lolling between their white fangs. Splashing downstream through the shallows, the undine slipped below the surface of a deep pool, leaving the Goblin hounds standing in the shallows, snarling and snapping at each other in disappointment.
When the undine broke the surface farther down the river, they swept after it along the south shore of the watercourse, baying excitedly. Soon, they were out of sight, but the sound of the chase reached the ears of the three companions for some time.
“Let us cross while the way is clear,” suggested Elerian. “This time, the water horse has unknowingly done us a good turn. Had we crossed the river straightaway, we would have walked right into the jaws of the canigrae.”
“Hurry, then, the masters of the hounds may be close by,” warned Ascilius.
Releasing his companions, Elerian went first. Slick black rocks dotted the shallow water of the ford, and Elerian leaped lightly from one to another, balancing without effort on their slippery tops. Dacien and Ascilius, less sure of their footing, fought the swift, knee-deep water of the river, Dacien holding onto Ascilius’s pack for guidance through the dark.
Elerian reached the south shore well ahead of them, but he did not leave the river.
“This way,” he called to Ascilius and Dacien, motioning them toward a small stream that flowed into the ford. “It would be best to leave no trail behind in case the canigrae return this way,” he said to Ascilius and Dacien when they reached his side.
Together, the three companions followed the shallow stream southwest, back into the foothills surrounding the slopes of Albior. Except for an occasional pool, the cold water was only ankle deep. Elerian and Ascilius saw well enough by the light of the stars and the horned moon to find their way without difficulty, but Dacien had a difficult time negotiating the slippery streambed, remaining on his feet only with the help of his two companions.
Elerian left the water when they reached higher ground, leading his two companions up a steep slope of bare rock that rose up to the left of the streambed. Near the summit, in the middle of a grove of large oak trees, they found a level place protected on the north side by an outcrop of bare rock. Here they were sheltered from Albior and any prying eyes that might be abroad on the side of the mountain, so they decided to camp there for the rest of the night.
The food in Ascilius’s pack was spoiled from being immersed in the underground lake, but the supplies Elerian carried were still good. After eating a cold meal of cheese, bread, dried meat, and dried fruit, Ascilius and Dacien stripped off their wet clothes and wrapped themselves in their cloaks. They both fell asleep as soon as they lay down.
Elerian remained awake, sitting cross-legged where he could watch the ridge below him for any approaching danger. He had not gotten as wet as the others, and the cool night air bothered him not at all. For a time, he sat still as the stone at his back. Then, unable to resist the lure of seeing the maid in the orb once more, he called his crystal sphere to his right hand.
Elerian watched with his third eye as, at the touch of his hand, a film of silver light cover the smooth, curved sides of the orb. Closing his third eye, he looked hopefully into the depths of the globe, wondering if it would show her face again.
The crystal turned dark for a moment before becoming suffused with a lurid red glow that illuminated a large, circular room. The walls, floor, and ceiling all seemed made of black stone polished to the smoothness of glass. A tall, slender figure suddenly rose from a great black throne in the center of the room. Elerian started and almost dropped the orb when he saw the pale face beneath the crown of ruby studded iron. The Goblin King’s dark eyes were filled with surprise and anger in the moment before Elerian hastily sent the orb away.
After the sphere disappeared from his hands, Elerian remained badly shaken by what he had seen and the narrowness of his escape. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart and found that his fingers were trembling.
“Torquatus is still alive then,” thought Elerian grimly to himself. “He has healed his wounds, and even worse, he has somehow appeared in my orb. Does every portal lead to Torquatus or was it coincidence?” wondered Elerian to himself. “I have used three different portals over the years and each one has led me to the Goblin king.”
Remembering how Torquatus had almost killed him in Ancharia by destroying a portal, Elerian resolved not to use his orb again until he had learned to master what appeared in its depths. Resuming his solitary watch, he remained awake until dawn. Twice, he heard distant howling, but it was far to the west. For now, at least, it seemed that their broken trail was throwing off any pursuit.
Elerian roused his two companions when the first rays of the sun appeared over the eastern horizon. After sharing a cold breakfast, for Ascilius would not hear of a fire, they traveled south, keeping close to the feet of the mountains. The trees here were large with a well developed canopy. To make sure their path was free from danger; Elerian took to the upper pathways of the forest and ranged ahead of Ascilius and Dacien. The forest was oddly empty, except for song birds. Elerian attributed the scarcity of large game, both on the slopes to his right and in the valley on his left, to the Goblins who lived in Calenus and their packs of canigrae, for he found many old kills under the trees. He saw no sign of any Mordi, however.
“The sun has probably driven them underground,” he thought to himself as he slipped silently through the forest canopy, all of his senses alert for danger.
Over the course of the day, Elerian stopped to gather straight branc
hes of ash for new arrows and pieces of obsidian and flint for arrow points from the slopes on his right. When evening drew near, he returned to his companions, finding them without difficulty.
As was his habit, Elerian did not reveal himself at once. Traveling silently, in single file, Ascilius and Dacien did not sense his presence in the branches above them. Both the Dwarf and the Tarsian looked unhappy, for neither of them was at home in the forest. Ascilius would have preferred to be safe underground. Dacien longed for the open plains.
With a gleam of mischief in his gray eyes, Elerian climbed down the trunk of a great chestnut, keeping out of sight of his companions. When he stepped suddenly around the tree in front of them, they both started violently.
“Must you do that?” said Ascilius sharply. “Make some noise when you approach us.”
“I could break a stick I suppose,” said Elerian with a hard, bright gleam in his gray eyes.
Ascilius glared back, for he still suspected that Elerian was somehow responsible for the Troll that he had seen in the Broken Lands.
“Is the way clear?” asked Dacien, seeking to distract Ascilius.
“I have not seen any sign of the Mordi or their hounds all day long,” said Elerian. “The land hereabouts seems empty of anything larger than a songbird.”
Ascilius relaxed visibly at Elerian’s words, but he retained his irritated look.
“Tomorrow,” he said in an aggravated voice, “we will leave the hills and travel straight east, staying close to the banks of the Arvina until we reach the plains. There we will look for a way to cross the river into Tarsius.”
“That would be the best path for us to follow,” agreed Dacien. “There are companies of riders charged with guarding the eastern bank of the river. As I mentioned before, their northernmost camp should be somewhere near the Tanicus. Once we cross the Arvina, it will not be long before we meet one of the sentries they have stationed along the river. I will ask for a guide to take us to the main camp. There, I can give you all the food and gear that you require for your journey to Ennodius. If you will take my advice, however, you will first take the time to travel south with me to Silanus where my father is camped with a great force of riders. He will be anxious to speak with you once he learns you are still alive, and he may have more recent news of what is transpiring in Ennodius.”
“Why is Orianus in Silanus?” asked Ascilius with a frown. “He should be in Niveaus at this time of year.”
“So he would be if we were at peace,” said Dacien sadly. “Unfortunately, a great army of Goblins and Ancharians is gathered at Silanus, seeking to rebuild the bridge over the Arvina so that they might cross in strength into Tarsius. My father’s force has kept them at bay, but there are constant skirmishes and battles. It was during one such battle that I was captured.”
“This is not good news,” said Ascilius thoughtfully. “I wonder if Torquatus has started his war at last. The Goblin army we saw moving to the north now weighs even more heavily on my mind, and who can guess what destruction the dragon has wrought on my city. I will return home at once Dacien, for I fear for the fate of my people.”
“I would feel the same,” said Dacien, “if our situations were reversed.”
Ascilius turned to Elerian. “Perhaps you should accompany Dacien to Silanus. When I invited you to accompany me to Ennodius, I had no idea how dangerous it would be for you.”
“I will go north with you,” said Elerian, firmly. “I have your promise to teach me about your red fire, and I mean to see that you honor it,” he said with a smile.
“There may be more fighting then teaching,” said Ascilius gloomily.
“It sounds as if there will be fighting no matter which way I turn,” said Elerian lightly. “Let us find a place to camp. It grows dark.”
They turned east, away from the mountains, entering a land of gently rolling hills covered with forests of hardwoods that were markedly younger than the ancient trees growing near Albior. Elerian saw the unmistakable signs of civilization among the trees: old foundations, the remains of stone fences, and fields now overgrown with trees.
“This was settled country at one time,” thought Elerian to himself. “I wonder what happened to the people who lived here?”
“Let us camp there,” said Ascilius, interrupting his thoughts.
Elerian looked to their right, where the Dwarf was pointing the remains of an old building. Leaves were piled high against two stone walls, each about four feet high and six feet long, which formed a corner where they might spend the night, protected on two sides at least.
Ascilius and Dacien cleaned branches and fallen stones out of the corner while Elerian gathered armfuls of ferns for their beds. The three of them then sat on the ground to eat a meager meal of bread, cheese, and dried fruit.
“How far to the Arvina?” asked Elerian of Ascilius. It was full dark, but he saw the Dwarf as plainly as if the sun was high in the sky.
“Three days,” said Ascilius around a mouthful of hard, stale bread. He saw Elerian’s outline clearly, but the details of his face and figure were slightly obscured, for his eyes were not as keen as Elerian’s in the dark. Dacien was hampered the most by the lack of light. He saw his two companions as dark shadows only.
“I will need to hunt or fish then,” said Elerian. “The food we have left will not last the three of us more than one more day.”
“We will have to tighten our belts then,” said Ascilius harshly. “This is no country to linger in.” Without another word, he rolled himself in his cloak and went instantly to sleep.
“Are all Dwarves as grumpy as Ascilius?” Elerian asked Dacien.
“They are a stern people,” said Dacien quietly, choosing his words carefully in case Ascilius was only feigning sleep. “They make steadfast friends, but they are fierce when roused. I wonder that you treat Ascilius so lightly. He is a mighty warrior. Even unarmed, I would hesitate to incur his wrath.”
“Danger only adds to the enjoyment of a good jest,” said Elerian cheerfully. His eyes suddenly gleamed in the darkness, shining for a brief moment with an inner light.
“Reckless perhaps, but hard as steel underneath,” was Dacien’s sudden thought when he saw that gleam. “I would not like to anger him either, I think.”
A sudden need to sleep gripped Dacien then and his eyelids grew heavy. “I still have your cloak,” he said apologetically to Elerian although he longed to wrap it tightly around him and fall asleep.
“Keep it,” said Elerian carelessly. “I am not bothered much by cold or damp.”
“Thank you,” said Dacien gratefully. He wasted no time in wrapping himself up in the warm cloak.
“He does not seem to sleep either,” was his last thought as he lay down, for Elerian remained sitting by himself, staring out into the night.
While his two companions slept, Elerian formed the branches and stones he had gathered into arrows, using only his fingers and his transformation spell. He made six arrows and then spent the rest of the night walking softly under the trees that surrounded their camp. He was filled with a strange restlessness and looked often to the south.
“She had dark eyes as well as dark hair. Could she have been an Ancharian?” Elerian asked himself as he paced under the stars. The world seemed a vast place under the night sky. Even if he attempted to search for her, it might well be an impossible task to find her. “Better to forget about her,” he thought to himself as if he believed that was still possible.
The next three days were uneventful for the three companions. Ignoring Ascilius’s complaints that he was wasting time, Elerian took fish from the streams they passed and brought down grouse and rabbits with his new arrows for their meals, for smaller game became more plentiful as they distanced themselves from Calenus. Mushrooms were plentiful in the spring woods and by chance, Elerian discovered a catch of last year’s chestnuts that were still edible in a hollow log.
Before dark each night, when the smokeless flames would draw no atten
tion to them, Elerian coerced Ascilius into starting one of his magical fires. The Dwarf was not happy about the risk, but now that they were in the drainage of the Arvina, they were passing small streams regularly, and Elerian made wine each night. He refused to give Ascilius any unless he made a fire. Since it was more than Ascilius could bear to watch Elerian and Dacien drinking a rich vintage while he had only water in his cup, he gave in each night, grumbling to himself as he cooked whatever Elerian had caught or found that day. By the evening of the third day, when they walked down a gentle slope covered with trees and found themselves on the banks of the Arvina, even Dacien had lost much of his hungry look.
The Arvina was now a wide, swift flowing river almost one hundred feet from bank to bank. In the light of the setting sun, its green waters looked deep and dangerous to Elerian. He hoped Ascilius knew of a better place to cross.
“Tomorrow, once we have crossed the river, we will have warm food and proper beds to sleep in,” said Dacien eagerly.
“We must cross it first,” said Elerian. “The water looks deep and Ascilius does not swim.”
“We will find a way,” said Ascilius, unperturbed. “If we can find a suitable piece of wood to support me, the two of you should be able to push me across. One way or another, we will be out on the plains by tomorrow night. In the meantime, let us find a place to sleep.”
They explored the river bank and soon came across a large, verdant thicket of rhododendrons. Slipping past the broad leaves and brittle branches, Elerian found there was an opening in the center. Perhaps four feet high and eight feet across, it was roofed with branches and filled with a drift of old leaves. After Ascilius and Dacien wormed their way in, the three companions sat down in the middle of the opening. Their food was gone, but they had stopped earlier to eat several large trout Elerian had taken from a stream so no one felt hungry. Dacien and Ascilius soon lay down to sleep, but Elerian remained awake, his mind drifting down the paths of dreams as he had done so often in the Goblin mines. For the first time in days, he dreamed of Fimbria that was no more. Just before dawn, he slept a little, waking his companions as soon as the sun was over the horizon.