by A. Giannetti
“I cannot supply food but perhaps I can help with the drink,” he said, turning to Ascilius. He filled his water bottle from the stream, and Ascilius, guessing his intent, eagerly did the same. Elerian then transformed the clear mountain water into cold beer, which Ascilius happily drank as they searched for Dacien.
Not far from the entrance to the pass, a place had been made to care for the wounded. Makeshift beds made out of horse blankets covered the grass, and between them burned large fires, which gave out light and warmth. Elerian and Ascilius found Dacien sleeping peacefully in one of the beds.
Under the watchful eye of a Tarsi guard, Elerian opened his third eye. With his magical sight, he saw that Dacien’s golden shade burned pale but steady. Satisfied that their companion was recovering from the poison, Elerian closed his magical eye and turned to Ascilius.
“There is nothing more to do here,” he said to the Dwarf, “but I wish to venture out among the wounded. There may be some that I can help.”
“That is not a good idea,” objected Ascilius. “You have taxed yourself far too much already. If continue to use your powers, you will end up dead or at best in a bed next to Dacien.”
Shrugging off Ascilius’s concern, Elerian went out among the beds nearby to see who might be helped. He found healers already in attendance on the wounded, mages who could readily close a wound and cure many other ailments. They were reluctant to let Elerian assist them at first, but when they saw how effective he was in healing poisoned wounds, they allowed him to stay.
Over the course of the night, as Elerian labored among the wounded, a steady stream of hurt warriors arrived from the west. Those that could talk told of wild pursuits followed by pitched battles in the dark when some portion of the fleeing enemy army sought to rally or lay an ambush. Listening to their talk, Elerian wondered if Merula was still alive.
Although he limited his healing to the wounds that were beyond the skill of the Tarsi healers, the drain on Elerian’s powers was still considerable. By morning, he was too weak to stand alone. Ascilius appeared suddenly by his side and carried him to an empty bed where he fell into a rare, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.
Elerian awoke to find the sun shining in his face. He was lying on a bed of thick horse blankets, and the first thing he saw was Ascilius’s craggy face looking down at him, his bushy eyebrows drawn together in an expression of concern. The Dwarf relaxed a little when he saw Elerian open his eyes.
“I warned you that you would end up in a sick bed if you overtaxed your powers,” he said severely. “If you do not learn some caution, you will fall asleep and not wake up one of these days.”
“The Goblins were free with their poison during the battle,” Elerian replied quietly. “There were many who would have died last night without my help. Let me have a sip of beer from my water bottle, and I will be as good as new.”
Ascilius handed him the bottle at once, and Elerian took a deep draught.
“This is water,” he said accusingly to the Dwarf. “What happened to the beer?”
“Dacien drank as much as I did,” said Ascilius, seeking to deflect the blame for the theft of Elerian’s beer.
Elerian looked past Ascilius and saw Dacien sitting up in a nearby bed. He face was pale but he looked to be recovering from his deadly wound.
“It was an excellent brew,” said Dacien with a smile. “We could not help ourselves.”
“You will become as great a miscreant as Ascilius at this rate,” said Elerian sternly, but his eyes gleamed with laughter.
“We have food,” said Ascilius. “I was not able to recover our packs, but you slept away most of the day, and the supply wagons have arrived. Are you strong enough to sit up?”
“Of course I am,” said Elerian. “What a ridiculous thing to ask.”
To prove his point, he sat up quickly and at once, felt his head spin violently.
“Perhaps now you will learn to listen to my warnings,” said Ascilius in an anxious voice. “I forbid you to perform any magic for at least two days.”
Elerian was too worn to argue. When his head stopped spinning, he ate a little bread and cheese that Ascilius offered him. Soon, he began to feel better. He saw that the evening shadows were beginning to lengthen and found it hard to believe that he had slept for so many hours.
“Has Orianus returned?” asked Elerian as he ate.
“Hours ago,” said Dacien. “There was a great battle this morning when the remnants of the Goblin army were brought to bay not far from the Arvina. Orianus had already sent a force to destroy the bridge, and the Goblins were trapped out in the open. Except for a few Urucs who swam their atriors across the river, the entire force was destroyed. It is the heaviest blow we have dealt Torquatus in many years. He will not be happy, I think, when the news reaches his ears.”
“What of the Trolls that were with the Goblins?” asked Elerian. “Did they escape?”
“Trolls can be dealt with in the daylight,” said Dacien. “Once the sun rose, they were harassed continually by riders armed with spears. They slew many, for their stony flesh was proof against the steel spearheads, but the strong sun and the constant fighting caused their hot blood to boil so that, one by one, they weakened and died.”
“This lore is new to me,” said Elerian, storing away this useful information in his mind. “I have never encountered a Troll in the daylight before. Did Merula survive the battle?” he asked as an afterthought.
“He is alive and well,” said Dacien. “He joined in the pursuit of the Goblins last night. I have heard that he acquitted himself well in the fighting,” said Dacien admiringly.
“He is a brave man,” admitted Elerian grudgingly. Turning to Ascilius, he asked, “What now? Do we turn our steps north toward your city?”
“Soon,” said Ascilius, “but not tonight. The King is waiting to meet you as soon as you are well enough to stand.”
Elerian gave the Dwarf a puzzled look. “Why would the king of the Tarsi wish to meet me?” he asked.
Ascilius laughed at his confusion. “You have helped save both his kingdom and his son,” he said dryly. “Why would he not wish to meet you?”
“How did I save his son?” asked Elerian blankly.
Ascilius and Dacien both began to laugh. Elerian looked in puzzlement from one to the other, wondering what they found so amusing.
“Forgive my laughter,” said Dacien at last. “My father, Orianus, is the king. I am the prince of the realm,” he said with a sudden glint of humor in his eyes at Elerian’s stunned expression. “Ascilius, by the way, is another prince in hiding. He is the oldest son of Fundanus, king of Ennodius.”
Elerian turned unbelievingly from Dacien to Ascilius, but they both seemed completely serious.
“Why did you not tell me before?” he demanded of Ascilius, thinking of all the times that he had tormented the Dwarf and Dacien too. What was the punishment for disrespect to a prince he wondered?
Ascilius looked embarrassed. “At first, I did not trust you. Later I thought about telling you, but I was afraid it would change things between us. Dacien said nothing about himself for the same reason. It was pleasant for both of us to be treated as a friend instead of royalty.”
“Well I certainly will not trust either of you again,” threatened Elerian with mock seriousness. “Who knows what other secrets you are hiding from me?”
Elerian instantly became suspicious at the knowing look that passed between Dacien and Ascilius. The pair of them had some sort of surprise planned for him, he was sure of it.
“If you are able to walk, we should meet with Orianus now,” said Ascilius. “It is best not to keep a king waiting.”
Elerian felt much better now that he had eaten. He stood up, and except for a slight weakness in his legs, felt like his old self again. He was pleased to see that Dacien was also able to stand unassisted.
“We shall keep Ascilius between us to use as a crutch,” said Elerian cheerfully to Dacien. “That will be some repay
ment for him drinking my beer while I slept.”
“I will carry you both, if it will speed your steps,” said Ascilius impatiently.
With Dacien on one side and Elerian on the other, he led the way to the meeting place. As they made their way through the camp, Elerian saw that the wounded were being loaded into large wagons. The wooden beds of the wagons were easily eight feet wide and fourteen feet long, supported by tall, iron rimmed wheels that carried them high off the ground. High, wooden sides and covers of heavy linen added another eight feet to their height. When Elerian passed next to one, he ran his hand over the polished wood and saw that it appeared to be all of one piece with no seams or joints that he could see.
Ascilius noticed his curiosity and spoke up.
“These wagons were made in Fimbria. There are no seams in them, and they are unaffected by wind and water. They have been in use for generations and are greatly prized, for there are no more to be had. The newer wagons are made in the south by the Hesperians and are not as good as the old ones.”
When Elerian reluctantly walked away from the wagon, he passed two pairs of immense, tan oxen with long, white horns. They were harnessed to the wagon tongue with heavy leather harnesses trimmed with small silver bells. They stared with placid, brown eyes as the three companions walked by them.
Orianus plans to leave for his war camp in the south tonight,” said Ascilius. ”He has only delayed leaving because he wishes to speak with you first.”
It was a strange feeling for Elerian to know that a king had delayed his plans so that they could meet. He glanced suspiciously at Ascilius, certain now that the Dwarf was concealing something from him.
After passing the wagons, they approached a large group of Tarsi seated in a relaxed fashion on wooden folding chairs arranged in a circle. Trestle tables laden with food and drink were set up to one side of the circle, and wine cups were much in evidence. To Elerian’s distress, Ascilius led the way right through the circle of chairs. Elerian was acutely aware of the many curious looks cast in his direction from bright eyes ranging from clear gray to palest blue. They contrasted sharply with the Tarsi’s dark locks and tanned brown faces.
As the three companions crossed the middle of the circle, one of the men on the far side stood and waited expectantly. Like all the Tarsi that Elerian had seen thus far, he was tall and well formed. His dark blue eyes shone with good humor and joy, and his long, black hair was tied back behind his head with a plain leather thong. A brief crown of twisted silver set with blue, faceted sapphires wrapped around his brow. Elerian knew without being told that this was Orianus, the king.
To the king’s right sat Merula, who appeared to be in much better humor today, judging from the self satisfied look on his face. He had fought valiantly during the battle, winning much renown and such was his skill with the sword that he had taken no wounds. To the king’s left sat an older Tarsi, with white hair and a white mustache. His dark, seamed face had the hard-bitten look of an old soldier, and his well-worn leather shirt was studded with polished silver bosses worked with the image of a running horse.
“Welcome my son,” said Orianus joyfully to Dacien as he hugged his son. “It is good to have you home again.”
“I owe my homecoming to my two companions, father,” said Dacien when they parted at last. “One you know already,” he said cheerfully.
“Welcome Ascilius, old friend,” said Orianus warmly, as he vigorously clasped the Dwarf’s right forearm with his right hand. “This is a day for happy meetings.”
“It is good to see you again Orianus, old friend,” said Ascilius heartily, as he returned the king’s handclasp. “I congratulate you on your great victory.”
“It will be some time before the Goblins dare to show their faces in our land again. Their bodies litter the plains from here to the Arvina,” said Orianus, his blue eyes glittering fiercely. “Their allies in Silanus have also suffered,” continued Orianus. Pointing to the white haired warrior, he said, “After I rode north, Decius, my second in command, secretly took a force across the Arvina, using the great store of boats that we keep there. From behind, they fell on the Ancharians encamped by the river, burning their fortifications and slaying many. The survivors all fled south. Many years must pass before they will feel brave enough to threaten my borders again.”
Orianus now turned toward Elerian, curiosity clearly showing on his face.
“Tell me about your companion Ascilius. Many strange rumors about him have already reached my ears."
“This is my friend Elerian,” said Ascilius, “perhaps the last Eirian in the Middle Realm.”
Elerian was taken by surprise by Ascilius’s words. As Orianus stared into his face with his clear gray eyes, Elerian saw in them that same questioning look that had appeared in Dacien’s eyes when Ascilius had named him as one of the vanished Eirians. To Orianus, Elerian appeared to be a man of middle years, worn by his years and experiences. Out of the corners of his eyes, Elerian saw doubtful looks on the faces of the seated warriors, for they, too, saw only a weather beaten stranger of no repute standing before their king. Merula looked amused, the pleasure displayed on his face deepening, as he perceived Elerian’s discomfort. Orianus courteously kept silent about any doubts he might have had about Elerian.
“Welcome to my kingdom, Elerian,” he said graciously. “I thank you for the life of my son. Ask me for any reward you wish, and I will grant it.”
“You owe me nothing King of the Tarsi,” said Elerian courteously. “Any aid that I gave to Dacien was freely given without any thought of reward.”
Orianus looked pleased at his words. “You may change your mind later, but at least you will not deny me your presence at the victory feast that will be held in my war camp in two days time.”
Elerian hesitated and looked sidelong at Ascilius.
“I have promised to accompany Ascilius to Ennodius,” said Elerian hesitantly. “He has not yet spoken of his plans now that the Goblins are defeated.”
Orianus frowned at Ascilius. “You would be most unwise to travel north, Ascilius. The dragon hunts in all the land between the Tanicus and the north road to Ennodius. Nothing can travel that way now and live.”
“I will travel the road to Ennodius no matter how many dragons guard the way,” said Ascilius stubbornly. “My journey home has been overlong already.”
“At least come south with me for a few days of celebration then,” begged Orianus. “After that, I will equip you for your journey, but I fear that we shall not see each other again if you insist on taking the dragon’s road.”
Ascilius looked from Orianus to Elerian and then back again.
“I will come for a little while then,” he said heavily. “Having delayed this long, I suppose a few more days cannot make any difference,” he said sadly.
A pleased smile broke out on Orianus’s face once Ascilius agreed to journey to the war camp.
“The three of you must join us in our circle,” he said to Dacien, Ascilius, and Elerian. “Refresh yourselves at the tables while I have chairs brought for you and a fire is lit. After you have eaten, I will hear the tale of your adventures, for it will be some hours yet before we are ready to begin our journey south.”
Ascilius led the way to the tables at once and lost no time in sampling the excellent wine. The food was common fare, suited to a campaign, but all it was all toothsome and well prepared. There was fresh bread, sharp cheese, cold, sliced meats, and fresh fruits brought up from the south of that country. Plentiful bottles of wine were set on the tables, and a small keg of beer was set up on a plank laid across a pair of wooden trestles.
By the time the fire was laid in the center of the circle and burning brightly, Ascilius had made serious inroads on the keg of beer. When he, Elerian, and Dacien returned to the circle, there were two empty chairs on the king’s right and one on his left. Elerian noted at once, the sour look on Merula’s face occasioned by being moved away from the king’s side. He smiled at the Dwarf as
Ascilius took the empty chair next to him, but the smile did reach his pale eyes. Elerian sat between Ascilius and Orianus. Dacien took the chair on the king’s left.
Ascilius proved more than willing to tell the story of their adventures at the urging of Orianus. In a deep, resonant voice that drew everyone’s attention, he began to speak. As the tale unfolded, the ring of Tarsi warriors drew their chairs closer, so that they might hear better. The leaping flames of the fire flickered on their rapt faces, casting shadows there as the daylight failed. The interest they displayed was not shared by Merula, however. With a look of resentment and disgust on his face, he quietly left his chair, unnoticed by anyone except Elerian. He did not return, and Elerian soon forgot about him as he listened to Ascilius. He had to admit to himself that the story of their adventures made an exciting tale the way the Dwarf told it.
Hearkening to Ascilius’s deep voice, he relived the time that he and Ascilius had spent in the mines and their battles with the creatures of Nefandus. When Ascilius told of the magic ring he had found and the various feats of magic that he had performed, Elerian shifted uncomfortably in his chair as every pair of eyes in the circle turned curiously in his direction. He would rather have kept his powers to himself for now, but Ascilius obviously trusted the Tarsi.
In the interests of telling a good story, Ascilius did not spare himself. When he told the story of being frozen stiff by Lurco, the men gathered around the circle roared with laughter as he described how Elerian had cooked and eaten a grouse right under his nose. Farther into the tale, their eyes shone with wonder when Ascilius described the treasure hoard of Durio. Under the influence of more than a few cups of strong wine, Elerian slipped into a pleasant state and enjoyed the story as much as the Tarsi. He started in his chair and his pleasant mood vanished, however, when Ascilius began telling everyone about his crystal orb and the maiden Elerian had seen in its depths.