The Warrior (The Hidden Realm)

by A. Giannetti

  “I will return as soon as I may,” said Elerian in melancholy tones. “When I come back, I shall not leave your side again.”

  “Take me with you,” said Anthea quietly. “I can slip away tomorrow night and meet you out on the plains.”

  “Your father would send riders after us,” said Elerian. “I would have to fight to keep you with me.”

  “I do not care,” replied Anthea miserably. “Once you return, I will leave this land. I feel a longing for forests now, not open plains.”

  Elerian took her slim hands in his and looked into her eyes, dark as the night under the starlight.

  “I will not break faith with your father and sunder you from your family,” he said firmly, “but perhaps I can ease your mind a little while I am gone.”

  Freeing his hands from hers, he opened a small pouch that hung on his belt and took out the two silver rings he had fashioned. They gleamed brightly in the starlight in the palm of his long hand, but the rubies were dull, dead things.

  “You mistake me badly if you think a ring will ensure my happiness while you are gone,” said Anthea coldly. “I am not a child to be swayed by such trinkets.”

  “These are no ordinary rings,” said Elerian solemnly as he took the smaller ring and set it on the smallest finger of her left hand. He then set the other ring on the smallest finger of his own left hand.

  “Incipio,” he said firmly, and the rubies set in the rings suddenly turned crimson in the darkness. The light in each ruby faded and then bloomed again in a slow, steady cadence.

  “These rings pulse in time with our hearts,” said Elerian to Anthea. “As long as the light is alive in your ring, you will know that I am alive and that I will return to you when I can. As long as my ring beats on, I will know that you still wait for me. If ever you grow weary of waiting or come to regret the choice you have made, you may remove your ring and the lights in both rings will go out forever. I will know then that you have departed this life or that you do not wish me to return.

  “Little do you know me then to think that I would ever turn faithless,” replied Anthea in a clear, firm voice. “Today, tomorrow, in a year’s time if need be, I will still wait for you to return. Fulfill your obligation to Ascilius and then come back to me, or send word where we may meet and I will come. I will gladly abandon all privileges of rank or birth to be with you.”

  Unexpectedly, she kissed Elerian warmly on the lips. As he eagerly reached for her, the silver beech leaf suspended around Anthea’s slender, white neck suddenly glowed softly in the starlight, and she danced out of his reach, a willowy elf maiden laughing softly even while unshed tears gleamed in her eyes.

  “Nay, you must have something to draw you back to me,” said Anthea. “You will have no more from me until you return and we are wed.”

  Elerian felt his heart torn in two at the thought of leaving her behind, but he remained determined to keep faith with Ascilius.

  “You may rest assured that I shall return at the first opportunity,” he said with a laugh tinged with the heartache that he felt and sought to conceal. Suddenly growing serious, he said quietly, “Until the traitor in the camp is found, I wish you to be on your guard while I am gone. I have not spoken of this before, but the spear you used against the lion was weakened deliberately. I am also certain that the Goblins did not come upon us by accident on the plains either.” It was on the tip of Elerian’s tongue to accuse Merula of being the traitor, but he kept silent, for he had no proof.

  “Worry about your own safety; I can take care of myself,” said Anthea confidently.

  “Do not use the necklace again unless you have no choice,” Elerian could not help adding before he showed Anthea how to cast an illusion spell to hide her ring. Then, hand in hand, they returned to the camp and parted for the night: Anthea to her tent and Elerian to pace restlessly under the stars.

  The camp roused at first light. Elerian breakfasted with Ascilius in the open-air mess the cooks had set up, but he did not see Anthea there. Later, when the company set out, she rode with Dacien and Orianus, and he had no chance to speak to her, for he and Ascilius led the company again. Whenever Elerian looked back at her, she appeared deep in thought, riding with downcast eyes and keeping her own counsel.

  Two hours after noon, Orianus approached Elerian and Ascilius on his white stallion.

  “I dare not go any farther north,” he said gravely when he reached their side. “The dragon has been sighted near the Tanicus and a large company like ours might draw its interest if is abroad. Are you sure, you will not change your mind about returning to Ennodius, Ascilius. I feel certain that you and Elerian are going to your deaths.”

  “I must find out what happened to my people,” said Ascilius, “or I will never have peace of mind again. I hope to see you again someday old friend, and I hope you may see Elerian even sooner.”

  “Before we leave, I have a gift I wish to give you,” said Elerian to the king.

  He stopped Enias and dismounted before taking a soft leather pouch with a long strap from where it hung on his right shoulder. As he carefully opened the pouch, Orianus, Dacien, and Anthea also dismounted and gathered around him. Once the covering was removed, it could be seen that Elerian was holding a shallow crystal bowl shot with twisted threads of green and red in his hands. The fluted sides curved gracefully to a flat bottom.

  “It is beautiful,” said Anthea quietly as Elerian held it sparkling in the sun.

  Elerian smiled, “It has a purpose as well as beauty.”

  He handed the bowl to Anthea before filling it with water from his water bottle. As the clear liquid poured into the bowl, the threads of argentum around the rim glowed silver white, and the water turned a dull silver color.

  “Think of the war camp of your people,” said Elerian to Anthea.

  Anthea did as he asked and then almost dropped the bowl, for the water that filled it suddenly became clear as air. In the depths of the bowl appeared in miniature the war camp of the Tarsi. As Anthea and the others stared in wonder, they could see tiny people moving among the tents and wagons.

  “Now think of the northern border of your land,” instructed Elerian.

  The scene in the bowl shifted immediately, showing open plains that ended against a line of bare, sheer cliffs that rose thousands of feet into the air. A tiny, glittering figure somewhat like a bat in shape launched itself off the side of the cliffs and soared over the plain on wide wings.

  “You have only to touch this bowl after filling it with water, and it will show you any part of your kingdom that you wish to see,” said Elerian to Orianus. “The stronger your power, the farther away you may cast your eye. It is my hope that by using it, you may follow Ascilius and me for a little longer as we travel north. It will also serve as a way to guard your borders against the Goblins so that they cannot gather in secret against you a second time.”

  “It is a gift beyond price,” said Orianus. “I have nothing to match it that I can give you in return.”

  Elerian looked at Anthea and said simply, “You have already given me leave to strive for the thing that I most desire.” Turning to Anthea, Elerian said, “Cast your thought to the north. See if the dragon is abroad.”

  Anthea looked into the bowl, thinking of the lands to the north. The clear liquid in the basin showed only empty plains covered with grass that shifted restlessly in the wind. The scene in the bowl then moved farther to the north to show tumbled foothills covered with green forests. Behind them rugged mountains thrust sharp edged peaks high into the sky. Nowhere was there any sign of life. Even the game seemed to have deserted the lands hunted by the dragon. Farther north than the mountains on the borders of Ennodius, Anthea could not send her thought. She returned the bowl to Elerian who emptied it onto the grass before returning it to its leather pouch. He handed the pouch to Anthea, who took it eagerly now that she knew its purpose.

  “We should be on our way now that we know the way is clear,” said Ascilius to Elerian.
“We can still travel a fair distance today.”

  “The sooner we set out, the sooner we will return,” said Elerian trying to sound cheerful, but his heart was not in it now that it had come down to his last moments with Anthea.

  He and Ascilius said their last goodbyes to Orianus and Dacien, and then Elerian took Anthea a little to one side. Enias moved between them and the rest of the company so that they were shielded from the many curious eyes that looked their way.

  Taking her slender hands in his own, Elerian looked into Anthea’s steady blue eyes for the last time. She wore a pensive, reserved look that troubled him.

  “Stay safe,” he said quietly.

  “Stay safe yourself,” she said with a bittersweet smile. “You are the one riding into danger.”

  Slipping free of Elerian’s hands, Anthea walked away to join the rest of the company. Watching her slim, graceful figure retreat, Elerian felt disappointed at the brevity of their parting.

  “Has she already given me up for dead,” he wondered disconsolately to himself as Ascilius rode up next to Enias on his small mare. He had a heavy pack of supplies fastened to the back of his saddle, and he impatiently handed a similar pack to Elerian who shrugged it onto his shoulders, as Enias wore no saddle. Elerian mounted the stallion, and he and Ascilius waved goodbye to the company one last time before riding off toward the north.

  Elerian looked back after a time and saw Orianus, Dacien, and Anthea, tiny in the distance, still watching them. He waved once and then looked back no more, facing resolutely north, toward Ennodius and whatever fate awaited him and Ascilius in the Dwarf city.