The Foundling (The Hidden Realm)

by A. Giannetti

  “At first,” continued Balbus, “I thought the creatures were wolves, even though they were unusually large, and their fur was coarse and black. Their eyes were strange, too, for they glowed like coals in the shadows under the trees.” Balbus paused again and saw with satisfaction that interest and even some alarm now showed on Tullius’s face.

  Elerian’s clear laugh interrupted the story, and Tullius turned a startled look on the boy. “Surely that is no human voice,” he thought to himself in wonderment as he watched the boy dripping water into a bucket. Elerian had noticed that a golden film of light occasionally covered the bucket when a drop fell into it, and even more intriguing, the level of the water in the bucket slowly fell as long as he trickled water into it. He was now busily engaged in trying to discover where the water went, for the floor around the bucket remained dry.

  The strange light which had caught Elerian’s interest was not visible to Tullius’s eyes. When Balbus resumed his story, he turned his attention back to his old friend.

  “As I was saying,” continued Balbus, “two strange wolves emerged from the forest. I was concerned because there were two of the animals, but I was still determined to fight them if I must. Then, one of the beasts spoke to me.” Balbus paused for a moment to take in Tullius’s reaction to his statement.

  “Are you sure?” asked Tullius gravely, as if hoping that Balbus was somehow mistaken about what he had seen and heard.

  “The creature’s voice was rough and hoarse, but the meaning of its words was unmistakable,” insisted Balbus. “It told me it wanted the boy and that I could go free if I gave him up. I am not ashamed to admit that I was badly shaken, both by the strange request and the fact that the beast had spoken to me.”

  Tullius did not comment, but his face took on a grim cast that alarmed Balbus. It was as if the mage had heard some very bad news and expected worse. Some of Balbus’s enjoyment in telling his unusual story vanished. Watching Tullius carefully, he continued his tale. “Fortunately for me, Carbo kept the creatures at bay until I collected my wits. Of course, I refused to give up Elerian, and the creatures promptly attacked us.”

  “Obviously, you fended them off, or you would not be here now,” interrupted Tullius dryly.

  “Carbo and I slew both of them,” continued Balbus, mildly upset that Tullius was making light of one of the most exciting parts of his story. “Unfortunately Carbo sustained a great wound. I thought he would die from it.” Here Balbus paused to show Tullius the length of the pink scar on Carbo’s side. The mage’s eyes widened, reflecting surprise and disbelief. Tullius recognized the severity of the wound at once, for he was no stranger to injuries. He was often called upon to act in the capacity of a healer, using both herbs and his mage powers to affect cures.

  “How was this healed,” he asked impatiently as he examined the scar. “He should have died from such a severe injury.”

  “Elerian healed it,” said Balbus dramatically.

  Tullius’s bushy eyebrows shot up in astonishment. “No one can heal a wound of that size?” he stated positively.

  “He touched the wound with his hands and it closed up,” said Balbus. “I watched the whole thing. When he was done, there was nothing left but the scar.”

  For Tullius, this was the most difficult part of Balbus’s story to accept, but there was no denying the evidence of the fresh scar on Carbo’s side.

  “This is most unusual,” said Tullius quietly. “Even a great mage could not have healed a wound of that size in time to save Carbo’s life.”

  “There is more,” said Balbus, and he was gratified to see that Tullius was now hanging on his every word. “I thought it best to hide the bodies of the creatures,” said Balbus resuming his story. “While I was dragging them to a hiding place, I found that each of the wolves wore a thin iron collar. I accidentally touched one of them with my finger, and a strange sensation shot through me.”

  “What happened then?” interrupted Tullius in a voice filled with apprehension. Balbus noted with alarm that he had gone pale under his tan, something Balbus had never seen him do before.

  “I realized the collar must be enchanted, and I immediately pulled my hand away,” said Balbus. “Knowing that such things are better left alone, I took great care not to touch either collar again. After I hid the bodies as best I could, I had Carbo tear the boy’s tunic with his teeth. I left it among the leaves soaked by Carbo's blood. Then, I covered my trail and any signs of the struggle as best I could, before carrying the boy home in my arms. It rained heavily not long after that. Hopefully, any signs or scent leading to my house were washed away.”

  Balbus paused in his story and looked at Tullius expectantly. He was relieved to see that the color had returned to Tullius’s face. The mage now sat sipping his wine and idly stoking the smooth brown wood of the staff he had leaned against the table by his left hand. Finally, he spoke. “You have done well,” he said grudgingly, although I would also say you have had more than your share of luck. The wolves you and Carbo fought were not animals at all. They were obviously shape shifters, for they could talk.”

  Tullius smiled grimly at the shocked expression on Balbus’s face. Obviously, this was not a thought which had occurred to his friend before. “If we need more evidence of this, we need only look at the collars which they wore. Such devices confer the power to change one’s shape even to someone who has little native magic of his own. More worrisome to us, as you rightly guessed, Balbus, they also point to the creatures having a master. When you touched one of those collars, you were in the greatest peril of your life. If you had handled one of them even a little, its master would have seized control of your mind. He would have broken your will, and after learning all there is to know about you, he would have drawn you to him or come to you.”

  Balbus shivered at the fate he might have suffered had curiosity led him to examine one of the collars. Tullius’s words had confirmed his worst fears, and added others he had not considered before. “Will the collars reveal the location of the bodies?” asked Balbus, suddenly seizing on a fresh worry.

  “The spell residing in the collars only becomes active at the touch of a living creature,” said Tullius, reassuringly. “If you hid the bodies well enough, they may never be found. That clever bit with the boy’s tunic may even lead any pursuers to think the boy is dead.”

  “There may still be a search for the boy to make certain of his fate,” said Balbus worriedly. “Such a search is bound to lead the master of the shape shifters to our own land. I have disguised Elerian as best I can in case someone shows up at my doorstep looking for him, but my disguise is not very good. Anyone who sees the boy up close will know he is not Hesperian.” Balbus fell silent and looked expectantly at Tullius, hoping the mage would suggest some solution to his problem.

  THE DISGUISE

  “Only a disguise crafted by magic can succeed in hiding the boy from the master of the collars,” said Tullius at last.

  “Are you able to perform such magic?” asked Balbus eagerly. “Can you change Elerian’s appearance and his voice too?”

  “Perhaps,” said Tullius as he looked thoughtfully at Elerian for a moment. “If I do succeed in changing the boy’s appearance, what will you do with him?” he asked abruptly as he turned back to Balbus.

  The question came as a surprise to Balbus. He had no ready answer, for all his thoughts, up to now, were concerned with keeping Elerian safe. He had not considered the boy’s future at all. “What would you suggest I do with him?” he asked Tullius, stalling for time.

  “You should send him away somewhere safe,” said Tullius immediately.

  The suggestion was reasonable, but Balbus found himself objecting to it at once. “Who would take him, knowing that he is disguised and that danger might follow after him?”

  “We need not tell anyone about his history,” countered Tullius. “If I can make him look like any other child of our land, I am sure some family in the south, beyond the Galerius, would be wi
lling to take him in. There, in the heart of Hesperia, he will not easily be found if enemies come looking for him.”

  “What if his parents return someday?” asked Balbus, still searching for some reason not to send Elerian away.

  “The boy could be brought back easily enough if that happens,” replied Tullius immediately. “We could tell the people who take him in that his parents might still be found some day.”

  Balbus could not think of any other objections, but for some reason, he was still reluctant to agree to the plan. He raised his wine cup to his lips, giving himself a few more moments to think. Tullius’s plan presented him with a way out of the dangerous situation he now found himself in, but his reluctance to accept his friend’s advice only increased the longer he thought about it. “I may as well face it,” he thought to himself. “Unless his parents come to claim him, I do not wish to give up the boy. I must have meant to keep him all along,” he thought to himself in surprise. “It just took Tullius’s question to make me realize it.”

  Setting down his cup, he said firmly to Tullius, “It would not be fair to conceal the boy’s past from anyone who decided to foster him. Even if someone did accept him, knowing the danger he might bring down on his head by doing so, the boy should not grow up ignorant of his past. It would be wrong to deprive him of his heritage, whatever it may be, just to buy my own safety.”

  “You wish to keep him,” said Tullius disapprovingly, for he saw what Balbus was leading up to.

  “I think it would be the right thing to do,” said Balbus. “Now that I have had time to think about it, I believe that it was no accident that I entered the Abercius yesterday. I begin to feel that I was meant to find the boy, and that having found him, I was also meant to keep him.”

  “You are speaking nonsense,” said Tullius harshly, for he still believed that it would be unwise and perhaps even dangerous for Balbus to keep Elerian. “It was nothing more than chance, or more likely, bad luck that led you to him. If you keep the boy, you will be meddling in something that is beyond your powers to deal with. Both you and Elerian may be killed if you refuse to follow my advice.”

  “That is a chance I am willing to take,” replied Balbus stubbornly. The more Tullius argued against keeping the boy, the more determined he became not to give him up.

  “You are a fool,” shouted Tullius, losing his temper for a moment, “and I am a greater fool for wanting to help you. I had hoped to spare you from this knowledge, for I did not wish to frighten you unnecessarily, but have you given any thought at all as to who this unknown master of the wolves might be?” he asked ominously.

  The question startled Balbus, for to tell the truth, he had given it little thought up to now. “I have not thought about it at all,” he said honestly to Tullius. “I have been too concerned with simply staying alive. After I returned home last night, I received a visit from the venetor.”

  “It never rains but it pours,” said Tullius, dourly shaking his head. “I am surprised that you are still alive,” he said bluntly.

  “Carbo saved me,” admitted Balbus. “The creature failed to break into my house, but somehow it drew me to the window and compelled me to open the shutters. I think it was about to do something to me when Carbo suddenly thrust me out of the way and drove it off by slashing at its hands as they gripped the window bars. I managed to bar the shutters again, and not long after, the rising sun drove the creature away.”

  “I have long suspected that the venetor possess some power which allows it to control its victims,” said Tullius nodding his head. A thoughtful look suddenly entered his eyes. “It seems an odd coincidence that the creature showed up on your doorstep on the same night you brought the boy home.”

  “A moment ago, you were claiming that all the events connected with the boy’s appearance occurred by chance,” said Balbus, for he could not imagine any connection between the venetor and Elerian. “Now, will you help me or not?”

  “First you must understand the danger you are in,” said Tullius sharply. “Let me ask you again. Who might the master of the shape shifters be?”

  “I have no idea,” said Balbus who was beginning to feel irritated at Tullius’s attempts to frighten him.

  “You must have forgotten, then, that Goblin shape shifters have always favored the wolf form,” said Tullius solemnly. “Because of the collars they were wearing, it is almost a certainty that the creatures you fought in the forest were lupins, Goblin shape shifters in wolf form. Their master is also undoubtedly a Goblin.”

  “That is just a guess on your part,” objected Balbus weakly, for the thought of dealing with Goblins terrified him, as Tullius had no doubt intended it to. All the dark tales Balbus had ever heard about those creatures came flooding back into his mind, increasing his fear. “No Goblin has been seen near the borders of our land since the Great War,” he replied in an attempt to cast doubt on Tullius’s statement. “That was over one hundred years ago. Most people believe they all perished in the fighting.”

  “Some of them survived, Balbus,” said Tullius grimly. “You should ask the next Dwarf you meet about the battle of Calenus which was fought only fifty years ago. He will almost certainly give you an earful about Goblins and whether they still exist.”

  “Even supposing they were Goblins, why would they want to kill a young boy like Elerian?” asked Balbus in uneasy tones. “He is too young to be a danger to anyone.”

  “I have no idea,” said Tullius in a troubled voice, and he studied Elerian once more as he dripped water into a bucket which was now almost empty. It disturbed him more and more that he could not determine the boy’s race.

  “I thought at first he might be one of the sylvan people who lived in our land long ago,” said Balbus who seemed to have guessed Tullius’s thoughts, “but he does not really resemble the faun I saw years ago.”

  Tullius shot Balbus a look of surprise. “You never mentioned seeing a faun before,” he said quietly.

  “I was sure no one would believe me, so I never spoke of it before,” said Balbus.

  “That was a wise decision,” said Tullius. “I would continue to keep quiet about it if I were you.” He fell silent for a moment and then spoke again in a low voice, almost as if he were talking to himself. “The Tarsi have dark hair and many of them have gray eyes. There are also those among them who are skilled in the use of magic.”

  “The Tarsi live hundreds of miles to the east, and they do not walk the forest paths,” objected Balbus at once. “They are people of the open plains.”

  “What is your enlightened guess, then, as to his parentage?” asked Tullius irritably. “The boy is certainly not a Dwarf.”

  Balbus frowned in concentration. The mention of Dwarves recalled a long forgotten conversation from his youth to his mind. “There is another possibility,” said Balbus quietly. “Many years ago, I was stationed at the garrison in Marsala for a time. There, at an inn called the Flying Dolphin, I briefly made the acquaintance of a trader named Evodius. He was a Dwarf, and he claimed to be over three hundred years old at the time I met him. We talked for a long time as we sat and drank our beer, and he told me a little about the lands to the north.

  “He mentioned nothing about Goblins, though?” asked Tullius sarcastically.

  “I did not think to ask about them, for I had no interest in Goblins at the time,” replied Balbus defensively. “Evodius talked mostly about his trading expeditions. Before the country was destroyed by the Goblins during the Great War, he often visited Fimbria. The inhabitants were called Elves by the Dwarves. Evodius told me that dark hair and gray eyes were common among them, and that many of them possessed strong magical powers. He said, too, that their faces and forms were the fairest of all the races that walk the Middle Realm.”

  “Are you saying you think Elerian is an Elven child?” asked Tullius in disbelief. “Did this Dwarf somehow fail to mention that the Elves vanished after Fimbria fell to the Goblins and their allies? If any survived, they passed over the
sea into the west where, if you believe in legends, there lies a land which mortals cannot enter.”

  “Suppose some of them did not leave the Middle Realm,” said Balbus stubbornly. “If Elerian is an Elf child, it would explain perfectly why the shape shifters and their master wanted him dead. Evodius told me that the Goblins and the Elves have been bitter enemies for countless years. The conflict between them began in the north lands, long before the Elves made their homes in Fimbria.”

  “Supposing for a moment that you are right, Balbus,” said Tullius. “If the boy is indeed an Elf, the Goblins will continue to search for him until they are sure he is dead. Suppose they show up on your doorstep looking for him. What will you do then?" he asked in a harsh voice. “They are a more terrible enemy than even the venetor.”

  “If you can disguise the boy properly, I can pass him off as my grandson,” said Balbus stoutly. “Anyone seeking him will be none the wiser.”

  “You place too much confidence in me, Balbus,” said Tullius with a slight undertone of bitterness in his voice. “The only way to hide the boy effectively from a Goblin or a lupin is to change his shape, but shape changing spells require a great deal of power, more power than I possess. I can only perform a partial shape change on the boy. It may not be enough to keep him from being discovered. He may well die as a result, and we could perish with him.”

  “I am willing to chance it if you are,” said Balbus firmly.

  “Very well then, I will help you if I can,” said Tullius gruffly as he finally gave in. Taking up his staff, which was never far from his hand, he said, “Exsisto charta,” in a firm voice. Balbus started in alarm as a small book, bound in brown leather, appeared on the battered table in front of Tullius. The edges of its pages were covered with gold trim and written on its cover in flowing golden letters was the word Tullius.