by A. Giannetti
“My world has been turned upside down, nephew,” continued Eonis, interrupting Ascilius’s speculations. “First I am attacked in my own chambers and then my front door is knocked down by the Umbrae. In all my long years, I have never heard of a Dwarf gate failing so quickly.”
“The art of Torquatus has grown since he took Calenus,” replied Ascilius grimly. “The ram the Goblins used to breech the gate today was charged with spells stronger than any that I have ever encountered before. I cannot guess where Torquatus obtained the large amount of argentum used in the device. He either scoured the whole of the Middle Realm to obtain it, or he has learned the secret of its making through bribery or torture.”
“What disturbs me more than the ram is how Torquatus persuaded Trolls to wield such a dangerous object,” replied Eonis in a baffled voice. “They have ever been Torquatus’s allies but never his slaves, throwing away their lives at his command.”
“They wore iron collars,” observed Elerian, who now appeared to have completed his study of the ceiling. “I have come to believe that anyone who wears such a device acts according to the Dark King's will and not his own. Although some of the Trolls wielding the ram perished, the rest did not seem affected by their deaths.”
“No gate will be able to stand before Torquatus then,” said Eonis in dismay. He looked at Ascilius with defeated eyes from beneath his snowy brows. “Even Iulius will fall, for it, too, is guarded by gates,” he said dispiritedly. “I may as well surrender to Torquatus now if he will agree to spare our people.”
“A wise thought, uncle,” said Herias, unable to keep a note of eagerness out of his voice. “I will carry your conditions to the enemy myself if you wish.”
“Surrender would not be prudent under any terms, for Torquatus would not honor any agreement that he made with us,” objected Ascilius. “I saw firsthand, uncle, how he treats Dwarves when I was a captive in his mines. The lives of our people would be neither easy nor pleasant under his rule.”
“The lowest classes may suffer a bit, but the nobility will be treated better, uncle,” suggested Herias in a sly voice. “He may even allow you to keep your treasure in return for your cooperation.”
For a moment the light that Ascilius had called arum vesania in the Broken Lands flared in Eonis’s dark eyes, but it quickly vanished to be replaced by a frown as the old king looked closely at Herias, as if seeing him for the first time.
“I love my gold, Herias, but I would not sacrifice even one of my people to keep it safe. It disturbs me to think that you would even suggest such a thing,” he said disapprovingly.
“Herias has overreached himself in his eagerness, revealing a side of himself that he ought to have kept hidden,” thought Elerian to himself as a furtive, trapped look appeared in the Dwarf’s cold, ebon eyes. Before Herias could stammer an excuse, Eonis turned to Ascilius.
“What do you suggest that I do, nephew?”
“Elerian has gained us time by blocking the doors to the entry hall,” replied Ascilius forcefully. “Let us use that time to evacuate the city. If we can reach Iulius, we may find safety there in the last and mightiest of our kingdoms.”
“But not forever,” said Eonis dispiritedly. “Even if we could somehow fight our way out past the dike by the back gate, Iulius is sure to be attacked once we abandon Galenus. At best, we will delay the dark day that is coming for our people. If there is no hope of finding a safer place then I think I would rather die here, defending my own city.”
“I would rather die with hope in my heart, not despair,” said Ascilius trying hard to control his impatience. “We must abandon Galenus, uncle, for there is no chance of a good outcome for our people here.”
Eonis gave Ascilius a long, searching look with his old, dark eyes. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he finally gave in.
“It is hard to be cast out of my home in my old age,” he said, sighing deeply. “Five hundred and twenty years have I dwelt here in this city, but if you can concoct a plan that will enable us to leave here, then I suppose we must at least attempt to execute it.”
“Elerian has already come up with a clever scheme to circumvent the barrier by the back gate,” replied Ascilius, clapping Elerian heavily on the left shoulder with his right hand to make sure that he kept quiet. Elerian staggered under the weighty gesture which was just as well, for he was having a difficult time keeping his face expressionless after hearing Ascilius’s surprising announcement.
“Is this true?” asked Eonis, looking doubtfully at Elerian.
“Of course it is true,” said Ascilius in a hearty voice as he slapped Elerian strongly on the shoulder a second time. “Elerian possesses a boundless cunning. I promise you that with his help we will win through to Iulius.”
“That remains to be seen,” replied Eonis heavily, “but, having given my word, I will now keep it. We will abandon the city, Ascilius, but you must lead the people in this dangerous endeavor, for I have grown too old for such a task and my sons are too young. Durio will help you. He is old, too, but wise in the ways of war.”
“Have you finally grown to trust me, then?” Ascilius could not help asking his uncle.
“My opinion of you has not changed, nephew,” replied Eonis testily, some of his old animosity toward Ascilius flaring again in his old eyes. “It is necessity alone which forces me to rely on you now, for I have no one else who can take Gavros’s place. If you would gain my trust, then you must earn it.”
“Fair enough,” replied Ascilius. “I will ask you that question again when we reach Iulius, uncle.”
“If we reach Iulius,” said Herias softly, his voice full of malice and doubt.” Ignoring Herias, Eonis turned to one of his attendants who was standing nearby and spoke.
“Quincius, let the word be given to all the people in the city that we are abandoning Galenus and that Ascilius will lead the evacuation.”
“How much time do we have before we must depart, Ascilius?” he asked somberly after his steward hurried from the room.
“Several days at least, uncle,” replied Ascilius. “The Goblins will not clear the outer hall of fallen rock anytime soon. To delay them even more, I have also set stonemasons to filling in the passageway behind the hall doors. We must move in haste, but there is no reason to panic.”
“Go then,” said Eonis somberly. “Order matters as you think proper, Ascilius.”
Bowing his white head, Eonis turned away, staring gloomily at the bright fire burning in his hearth. The flames playing over his craggy features revealed the state of his mind, for a mix of melancholy, bewilderment, and sullenness was clearly visible in his face. In that moment, he looked less like a king to Elerian and more like an old Dwarf burdened beyond endurance by age and misfortune, an object of pity for all his cantankerous nature.
“Let us be about our business, Elerian,” said Ascilius as he dragged Elerian from the chamber, his powerful right hand gripping his companion’s left arm.
“How could you lie to that poor old fellow, telling him that I have a plan to evacuate the city?” asked Elerian disapprovingly when they were out of earshot of Eonis and Herias.
“I spoke no lie!” replied Ascilius, feigning distress at the accusation. “You told me yourself that you had a way to make use of the hidden tunnel by the back gate.”
“That plan included only my own escape,” Elerian pointed out dryly.
“Well now it will include the populace of the city, too,” replied Ascilius in a hearty voice. “Judging from past experience, I am sure that your wily mind can change a few details to enable everyone to flee the city.”
“If we led a small force through the tunnel door, I suppose that I could hide them with an illusion, at least for a short time,” replied Elerian thoughtfully. “Such magic is weak and does not require much power.”
“Excellent idea!” exclaimed Ascilius eagerly. “With the element of surprise on our side, we should be able to drive the sentries off the dike. We need hold it only long enough f
or reinforcements to reach us from the city.”
“But how will they reach the top of the earthworks?” asked Elerian, recalling the trench and the other obstacles that protected the dike.
“Ladders will bridge the trench if they are leaned against the face of the barrier, for it looked to be only about thirty feet high,” replied Ascilius confidently. “If you sheer away some of the palisade at the top of the dike with Acris, we can assemble enough Dwarves on its summit to launch an attack on the Goblin camp. With the weight of all the warriors in the city behind us, we should be able to put them to flight.”
“A risky plan,” ventured Elerian, remembering the size of the enemy army camped behind the dike.
“It will work,” insisted Ascilius. “Come,” he said eagerly. “Let us get something to eat and plan further what we must do.”
For the next two days, Ascilius and Elerian carefully planned their assault on the Goblin camp while the Dwarves of Galenus prepared to leave their city. Food, weapons, and the few personal belongings they were taking with them were loaded into wagons. Their treasures were carried to hidden rooms deep in the roots of the mountain where they were sealed away behind hidden doors. Everything else was being left behind and would likely be stolen or destroyed by the Goblins. The tunnels, the stone trees, the many fountains and all the other things that the Dwarves had wrought with patient skill over the centuries would endure, however, for they were made from magically hardened stone. The Goblins might be able to deface these things or spread filth over them, but they could not be destroyed without a tremendous outlay of magic. If ever the Dwarves of Galenus managed to return to their city, they would find it mostly intact with gold at hand in the treasure rooms to restore it to its former glory.
“We dare not wait any longer,” said Ascilius to Elerian on the morning of the third day as they stood in the entrance of the passageway that ran from the city to the entry hall before the main gates. Around them, numerous Dwarves were filling in the last few feet of the tunnel with stone blocks. From the other side of the barrier, the ring of hammers on chisels and the scrape of shovels against stone were faintly audible to both Elerian and Ascilius.
“The time has come for us to leave the city, for the Goblins will break through this last bit of stone before the day is over,” said Ascilius gravely to Elerian. “I have already given the order for everyone to gather before the back gate. Today we will either triumph or fall into a dark defeat from which we may never rise again.”
“Let us be off then to discover our fate,” replied Elerian cheerfully, his clear gray eyes shining fearlessly in the mage lights that lit the passageway.
Ascilius immediately ordered the stonemasons to leave off their work and to set out at once for the back gate. When everyone had left, he and Elerian followed along behind, for they already had their packs and weapons with them. As they walked alone through the silent, empty second level of the city, Ascilius suddenly spoke in a low, grim voice full of doubts that he had kept carefully concealed up to now.
“Once again we roll the dice against high odds, Elerian. I wonder if fortune will favor us once more.”
“If we do not falter, I think it will be a ruinous day for the Goblins and their allies,” said Elerian encouragingly, for he was well used to his companion’s mercurial nature by now. Once the battle was joined, he knew that Ascilius would be consumed by battle lust and forget all his misgivings.
“I wonder that you can be so calm,” replied Ascilius. “Have you seen something of the future that gives you hope?”
“My hope springs from my heart not from any foresight, Ascilius,” replied Elerian quietly. “Today’s events remain a mystery to me, for what little prescience I have comes and goes as it wills.”
“That is a shame, for your forewarnings have been on the mark thus far,” said Ascilius regretfully. “Had you some encouraging news to tell me, it would have been a comfort to me.”
They both lapsed into silence then, walking swiftly through the deserted city until they finally entered the great hall before the back gate. There, Elerian saw thousands of armed Dwarves who had assembled to storm the dike if Ascilius succeeded in wresting it away from the Goblins. A small company of three hundred Dwarves stood apart from the rest, all of them volunteers eager to take part in the initial assault on the dike. They were dressed in chain mail down to their knees and wore small round steel caps on their heads. For weapons, they carried either axes or hammers, and all of them had shields on one arm. Better than half of the small troop was composed of Dwarves from Ennodius, for Ascilius's exploits had won their respect, and they were eager to follow him again. Elerian saw that Falco also stood among them and that Durio was there, too, with Tonare sitting by his feet. Next to Durio were two young Dwarves so nearly alike that it was hard to tell them apart. Elerian learned later that they were the sons of Eonis. Of Herias, Elerian saw no sign.
“He seems quite adept at vanishing when there is fighting to be done,” thought Elerian dryly to himself.
“Is all in readiness, Durio?” Ascilius asked in his deep voice when they reached his side.
“The only thing left undecided is who will lead the sally through the hidden tunnel,” replied Durio.
“That was never in question,” replied Ascilius with a frown. “I will lead it, of course.”
“That would not be wise,” objected Durio. “I should lead it, for I have the most experience.”
“You are too old,” objected Ascilius, his frown deepening. “This is a task for a younger Dwarf.”
“Exactly right,” chimed in Falco. “I should lead the attack. You ancients would need to stop for a nap before clearing half the dike.”
As he weathered the barrage of abuse which immediately followed from Ascilius and Durio, Falco solemnly winked his left eye at Elerian who was standing behind Ascilius. Elerian smiled back, his approval for the young Dwarf rising even higher.
“A Dwarf with a sense of humor,” he thought to himself. “That is the greatest wonder that I have seen in this entire city.”
The argument between the three Dwarves continued a bit longer, but Ascilius eventually had his way. With the leadership issue resolved, he began to issue his orders
“Falco, you will come with me,” he said firmly. “Durio, you will command the troops here in the hall. If we succeed in gaining control of the dike, you must open the gates and come at once to our aid.”
An expectant hush fell over the hall as Ascilius turned away from Durio to examine the blank wall to the right of the inner gate. The silence began to lengthen uncomfortably as Ascilius continued to walk back and forth before the huge expanse of wall before him. Elerian, who followed Ascilius like a second shadow, began to hear muttering with his sharp ears and the impatient shifting of booted feet on the stone floor of the hall.
“What is wrong, Ascilius?” he asked quietly.
“I have forgotten exactly where the dratted door to the tunnel is,” replied the Dwarf in a soft, irritated voice. “It was never opened again after I completed the passageway, and my uncle refused to have anything about its location set down in writing. It should be right here, but my opening spells are not revealing any door.”
Behind them, the silence in the hall grew increasingly awkward.
“He cannot find the door,” someone called out loudly. Elerian could not be sure, but the voice sounded very like that of Herias. “We should abandon this mad venture and think of some other plan to save our lives,” continued the heckler.
“I must do something,” thought Elerian to himself as the sound of muttering in the hall grew louder. Beads of sweat now dotted Ascilius’s broad brow as he grew increasingly anxious. Standing with his back to the Dwarves behind him, Elerian extended his right hand and called his crystal orb.
“Send it back,” gasped Ascilius when he saw the sphere appear on Elerian’s palm. “No good will come of this!”
Ignoring the Dwarf, Elerian cast his thought back through the past. The
orb suddenly cleared, showing a younger Ascilius illuminated by a golden mage light as he stood before an open door in a great wall. A hundred paces to the left of the door stood the inner gate to the city.
“Send that cursed thing away,” repeated Ascilius anxiously. “I know where the door is now.”
Elerian formed the spell that would return the sphere to its resting place, but before he could cast it, Ascilius vanished from the orb, replaced by the image of a long, slender finger, freshly cut off and resting on a black satin pillow. A drop of crimson blood still oozed from its severed end, glistening like some horrible jewel in the early morning sunshine that illuminated the interior of the sphere.
Filled with unease, Elerian cast his spell and the orb vanished, but the ghastly image that he had seen inside it remained fixed in his mind as he followed Ascilius farther to his right along the wall of the chamber.
“What does it portend?” wondered Elerian to himself. “Did the sphere merely show me some random image or did it show me some grim scene from my own future? I begin to believe that Ascilius is right when he says I ought not to use a device which has revealed so many grim portents.”
Just then, Ascilius stopped and turned to his left. Facing the wall of the chamber, he raised his right hand. As his third eye opened, Elerian pushed aside thoughts of his sphere. With his magical sight, he saw a small golden orb fly from Ascilius’s fingers. When the sphere struck the wall in front of the Dwarf, a silvery line of argentum appeared in the stone, outlining a door six feet high and four wide. Closing his third eye, Elerian saw the door swing inward, revealing a narrow, rough walled tunnel only a little larger than the door.
Raising Fulmen high in his right hand, Ascilius turned and shouted, “Follow me!” to his waiting company. Then, turning back to the entryway, he lit a small mage light before running into the narrow passageway that he had exposed, Elerian following close behind him. Voicing grim war cries, his small band of volunteers rushed toward the tunnel entrance after him.