The Dwarf Kingdoms (Book 5)

by A. Giannetti

  “Umbrae, sending,” muttered Eonis as Elerian slipped the king’s polished stave into his twitching right hand.

  For a long moment, Elerian stared at the Dwarf king, a predatory gleam lighting his gray eyes as he imagined what the old Dwarf’s reaction would be if he woke to find the spider he feared so much perched on his chest.

  “Too risky,” he finally decided with a mental sigh. “I would hate for his heart to give out this close to Iulius.”

  Closing the wagon door, Elerian climbed up into the oak again, reaching his perch just as Ascilius emerged from the forest, a satisfied look on his face. Climbing onto the front seat beside Quincius, who had watched the theft of his master’s rod with approving eyes, Ascilius directed the steward to commence the drive to Iulius. As the wagon rumbled north on the highway, Ascilius’s company and the bridge sentries followed, forming a rearguard for Eonis and his family. High in the canopy, Elerian shadowed the Dwarves, walking lightly through the upper pathway of the forest, his clear gray eyes bright with laughter as he pictured Ascilius’s reaction when he saw Eonis emerge from the wagon with his staff in his hand.

  THE FORTRESS

  Long after Ascilius and his company left the Catalus behind, the first Mordi emerged from the forest south of the Catalus. With them were Trolls carrying axes, ropes, and chains, tasked with building a bridge over the river. Farther south on the Dwarf road, Sarius, the commander of the Goblin army, rode in grim silence at the head of his dark legions which he had been unable to gather together until Eboria had finally left the forest at the setting of the sun.

  “Ill fortune has dogged my footsteps thus far, but my luck will turn soon,” he assured himself. “In two days time, I will stand before the gates of Iulius, and the siege of last Dwarf kingdom will begin in earnest. Whether it takes me a year or a hundred years, I will grind the little people down under my boot heel, making them pay a hundred times over for the trouble they have caused me, but their punishment will be as nothing compared to the retribution I will meet out to Ascilius and his gangrel companion. Before I deliver them to Torquatus, their suffering will become legendary, serving as a warning and a deterrent to those who would oppose the will of the dark king.”

  At the same moment that Sarius was musing on his sinister plans for the Dwarf race, Eonis’s wagon was far up the north road. To the east and the west, the rugged foothills and tall mountains which rose up like a dark wall had crept close to the road, leaving only a narrow densely forested valley between them. From his vantage point in the canopy, high above the Dwarves, Elerian could hear the Catalus on his left, the loud murmur of its rushing water reaching him through the trees. On his right, he saw a second road suddenly appear, branching from the main highway to run east through the foothills and mountains on the right. The sight of it sent a chill of apprehension through him.

  “That must be the road which Anthea plans to follow to Iulius,” thought Elerian uneasily to himself. “In a day or two, when the Goblin army arrives to lay siege to Iulius, this highway will surely be watched and guarded. If Anthea is not warned of the danger, she may ride unaware straight into the welcoming arms of the Goblins.”

  Dropping to the ground, he ran lightly to the right side of Eonis’s wagon where Ascilius was fast asleep on the wagon seat. Beside him, Quincius also dozed, trusting to well trained ponies to follow the road. The Dwarves marching behind the wagon started when Elerian suddenly appeared after sending away his silver ring, but they quickly ascribed his sudden appearance to a trick of the early morning light and their own weariness which now weighed down both their limbs and their eyelids.

  “Good morning,” said Elerian loudly to Ascilius, watching with bright eyes as the Dwarf started awake and almost fell off the wagon seat.

  “Were I not so sore, I would pummel you where you stand for last night’s mischief,” complained Ascilius angrily after recovering his balance.

  “Good heavens!” replied Elerian in an aggrieved voice. “I cannot even wish you a good morning without being accused of having performed some sort of prank.”

  Ascilius continued to glare at Elerian, the familiar gleam in his companion’s gray eyes telling him clearer than words that Elerian was laughing at him even while claiming to be innocent of any wrongdoing. Quincius, who had also awakened, also had a strong suspicion that Elerian was responsible for last night’s goings-on, but he remained silent. Old and wise, he had learned long ago not to meddle in the affairs of either royalty or mages.

  “Let someone else speak of spiders and Siogai gold,” he thought sagely to himself. “Were I to talk out of turn, I might find myself turned into a frog by yonder mage. Who knows what he may be, for no true man ever worked magic without a staff.”

  Becoming serious, Elerian said quietly, “I think that I should leave you Ascilius. I should set out on the plains road now before the Goblins take control of it. I would not have Anthea set out from Tarsius only to walk unaware into their cruel grasp.”

  At his words, Ascilius’s whole demeanor changed. “You cannot go yet,” he protested vigorously. First, I must first show you the last kingdom of the eastern Dwarves. Then, I promise you that you will be on your way. It takes a journey of many days to travel from Niveaus to Iulius. Even if Anthea set out today, you could spend a week with me and still have time to intercept her far out on the plains.”

  “Very well then,” said Elerian reluctantly. “I will wait one more week, but not an hour more.”

  “You will not regret it,” Ascilius reassured him.

  Elerian was not so sure that Ascilius was right, but he kept his concerns to himself as he continued to run lightly beside Eonis’s wagon which soon came to a narrow, steep sided gorge that was already in deep shadow. The road continued on in the narrow space that lay between the east bank of the Catalus, which was now ran close to the left shoulder of the road and the right wall of the gorge. The river, green and swollen with icy snowmelt, thundered down steep falls and over rocky rapids, a pale mist rising into the air from its churning waters to cover the rocks of the canyon walls with a thin coating of moisture. Green ferns and moss, dark green from the abundant water, grew far up the walls, but there were no trees.

  After perhaps a quarter mile, the road reached the head of the gorge. Here the river dropped almost one hundred feet straight down over a sheer cliff into a round pool full of water slicked black rocks. A heavy white mist rose from the surface of the pool, and the roar of falling water filled the air. To the right of the falls, in the eastern wall of the gorge, Elerian saw a great double gate set in the cliff face. Above the gate, the cliff wall bulged out over the entryway. Narrow slots covered with iron grates were cut into both the front and the floor of the overhang, so that the gates could be defended from above by archers. At the top of the cliff, to the right of the falls, was a low wall that ran the length of the precipice. Though narrow apertures cut at regular intervals in the barrier, Elerian could see arbalests that looked powerful enough to send a shaft clean through a Troll.

  “This is strong place, capable of resisting a great army,” thought Elerian to himself. “If enough Dwarves man the defenses here, no enemy can survive for long in front of the gates. Neither can they bring in any great engines of war nor even a ram, for there is not enough space before the gates to accommodate them. Iulius looks to be a tough nut for the Goblins to crack.”

  As the column of Dwarves approached the gates, they swung open, pushed by Dwarves wearing bright mail and carrying axes in their hands. When the wagon driven by Quincius approached, they stopped it at once, casting dark, suspicious glances Elerian’s way.

  “Your companion cannot pass here without a blindfold,” said a sturdy Dwarf to Ascilius. “No outsider is allowed to see the inside of the outer defenses by order of the king.” It mattered little to Elerian whether he was blindfolded or not, but Ascilius immediately took issue with having Elerian’s eyes covered.

  “My companion poses no danger to Iulius,” he protested. “His act
ions have earned him the right to pass a hundred times through these gates with his eyes uncovered.”

  “The desires of a stranger of no rank do not override the directive of my king,” replied the guard stubbornly.

  “Let it go,” Elerian advised Ascilius, but the Dwarf’s face had already darkened with anger at the insult.

  “I say he will pass through with his eyes uncovered,” he roared, stepping forward to stand nose to nose with the gate captain, Fulmen grasped in his right hand.

  The gate captain paled, but he did not back up an inch. Behind him, the gate guards quickly assembled around him, weapons held ready.

  “In a moment, blood will be spilled here because of Dwarf stubbornness,” thought Elerian unhappily as the Dwarves in Ascilius’s company began to gather around the wagon, their grim faces promising trouble for the gate guards. At that moment, a door in the side of the wagon swung open and a set of wooden steps swung down on hinges to the ground. Taking his time, Eonis, staff in hand, climbed stiffly out of the wagon followed by his two sons. Ascilius frowned at the sight of the king’s ebony stave before turning to glare at Elerian who was now pretending a great interest in the cliff face above the gate.

  “It is not seemly that we fight among ourselves, nephew,” said Eonis in his deep voice. “We have more than enough enemies in the wide world to battle.” The gate captain recognized Eonis at once and looked relieved, thinking the king of Galenus was taking his side.

  “My orders come from your brother, the king himself, lord,” he said importantly. “No outsiders may pass the gates without a blindfold.”

  “I think my brother will not mind an exception in this case,” said Eonis with a smile. “You will let my nephew's companion pass with his sight unfettered.”

  The gate captain was taken aback to learn that he had insulted Dardanus’s nephew and that he was now faced with the choice of disobeying either his own king or the king’s brother. When he hesitated, the smile suddenly vanished from Eonis's face, and his dark eyes became stern. His knotted right hand tightened on the ebony staff that he held in his right hand. In that moment, he looked more than capable of striking anyone who opposed his will.

  “I cannot fight with the king’s brother,” reasoned the gate captain with himself. “Dardanus would have my head, for the three brothers are closer than the pages of a book.”

  “I will disobey my king on your orders, my lord,” he said to Eonis as he hastily stepped aside. The Dwarves behind him also melted away, leaving the passageway clear.

  His face tranquil once more, Eonis took Ascilius’s seat on the wagon. Quincius urged the ponies on with a flip of the reins, and the wagon entered the tunnel followed by Elerian and Ascilius, Ascilius bestowing a dark look on the gate captain when they passed by him. Behind Ascilius’s back, Elerian paused and looked directly at the Dwarf for a moment. The, shaking his head sadly, he slowly drew his hand across his throat. His gray eyes gleamed when the gate captain’s face turned pale.

  The tunnel beneath the cliff led to a second set of gates, which were open but also guarded. No one challenged Elerian this time as he followed Eonis’s wagon across a large hall. On the far side of the chamber was another set of gates which opened up onto a wide ramp that climbed gradually to the left. The ramp brought Eonis’s wagon and the column of Dwarves behind him to a large courtyard on the top of the cliff face.

  As he walked north across the courtyard, Elerian looked around him curiously. To his left, the west side of the courtyard was bounded by a sheer cliff. Along the base of the precipice, the Catalus ran through a deep stone channel before racing over the edge of the courtyard, cascading into the pool below with a low-pitched, constant roar. Behind him, the low wall Elerian had seen from the road ran from the edge of the river to a second cliff face to his right on the east side of the courtyard. At the north end of the courtyard was another wall, this one at least sixty feet high. It was pierced by a single double gate which was wide open. To the left of the gate, the Catalus flowed through a low, arch closed off by massive iron bars. On the road which was visible through the open gates, made tiny by distance, Elerian could see a long line of wagons on their way north to Iulius.

  “No matter how large an army Torquatus brings against us, his forces will break like water flowing against stone if he seeks to enter the valley beyond that wall,” said Ascilius proudly.

  “These defenses around us will keep out the Goblins, but they will also cage anyone inside them,” said Elerian apprehensively, for he was suddenly afraid that he might remain trapped here in this last stronghold of the Dwarves.

  “There will be a way out for you when it is time to leave,” Ascilius reassured him.

  By now, Eonis’s wagon had left the courtyard, followed by Ascilius’s company of Dwarves. When Eonis leaned his white locks around the side of the wagon Ascilius shouted, “I will join you in Iulius, uncle. Give my greetings to Dardanus.”

  “Should we not go with him, Ascilius?” asked Elerian, impatient to be on his way.

  “I would like to show you the Caldaria at sunset before we leave,” replied Ascilius unhurriedly. “In the meantime we can have a meal and rest a bit. After you have seen the valley we will spend the night in the fortress sleeping in a proper bed. It is a four day ride by carriage to Iulius so there is no sense in hurrying.”

  “Knowing how stubborn he is, there is no use in arguing,” thought Elerian resignedly to himself as he followed Ascilius to a door in the cliff face beside which a gray haired Dwarf in burnished chain mail waited for them.

  “My name is Herma,” he said to Ascilius after making a deep bow. “I am the commander of this fortress. Dardanus has sent word that every courtesy is to be extended to his brother and his nephew. If there is anything you wish you have only to ask.”

  “What of my companion, Elerian?” asked Ascilius, who was still rankled by Elerian’s reception at the gate to the fortress.

  “He is to be treated like yourself,” said the Dwarf respectfully. “Word of his deeds has already reached Dardanus’s ears.”

  “In that case,” said Ascilius in a mollified voice, “we would like a bath and a meal along with a room for the night.”

  “Follow me then,” replied Herma.

  After passing through the entryway, he led Ascilius and Elerian deeper into the cliff face, eventually bringing them to a bathhouse. Ascilius entered eagerly, but Elerian paused a moment by Herma’s side.

  “I wish to warn you,” he whispered solemnly, “that my companion is uncommonly fierce and bad tempered. He is already planning to have the gate captain’s head. I would not like to see anyone else suffer the same fate.”

  “Thank you for the warning,” Herma whispered back gratefully. “I will pass it on.”

  After the commander of the fortress hastily retreated, Elerian entered the bathhouse, his eyes gleaming with mischief, and shed his clothes. After a long soak in copper tubs to wash off the blood and grime of the battlefield, fresh clothing was brought for him and Ascilius. There were soft brown pants of linen, white linen shirts, and velvet tunics with hoods; green for Elerian and sky blue for Ascilius. Wide belts made of silver links and soft leather shoes for their feet completed their outfits. Last of all, they were given soft leather thongs to tie back their hair which Elerian wore down to his shoulders and Ascilius wore halfway down to his waist. His flowing beard, Ascilius left loose over his chest, tucking the end of it into his belt to contain it.

  “You can hardly see the gap in your beard anymore,” said Elerian innocently. Ascilius immediately frowned, carefully rearranging his prized beard to cover the now barely visible hole Elerian had burned through it on the plains of Tarsius.

  When Herma suddenly appeared to call them for dinner, he was startled at the transformation in the two companions. Elerian’s face still looked that of a middle-aged man, worn by his labors, but his gray eyes shone with power and knowledge. Washed clean of the grime of battle and properly dressed, Ascilius, with his dark eye
s and noble countenance, now looked the descendant of kings.

  Herma bowed deep. “Follow me my lords,” he said and meant it.

  Leaving behind all their war gear except for their weapons, Ascilius and Elerian followed Herma, the old Dwarf’s eyes straying often to the great silver inlaid hammer carried by Ascilius and to the silver hilt of Elerian’s sword. Word had already spread concerning the magical weapons the two of them carried and the deeds they had done with them.

  Eventually, Herma led Ascilius and Elerian to a great, rough-hewn room with a polished floor. Suspended by chains, iron fixtures hung from the high ceiling, each one bearing mage lights that lit the room with a golden glow. Flanked by rude benches, great oak tables were scattered about the room, one of them heavily laden with food and drink.

  “We do not have the finery here that you will find in the city,” said Herma worriedly to Ascilius, “for this is only a rough fortress.”

  “The banquet you have set makes up for all,” said Ascilius happily.

  He and Elerian sat across from each other at the table that had been prepared for them and set to at once. There was ale, dark and strong, and several meats: venison, wild boar, and a great roast of beef. White bread, butter, creamy yellow cheese, and all the fruits of the season filled the polished golden oak boards between them. There was also red and white wine. Herma and two attendants hovered over them while they satisfied their hunger, taking especial care to attend to Ascilius.

  When they were done with their meal, Herma took them to a room with a fireplace already laid with a bright fire. Before the hearth were two comfortable wooden chairs and a small table laden with wine and cakes. Laid out to the right of the fireplace, carefully cleaned and polished, were their mail shirts and other gear. At either end of the room was a door leading into a bedroom. A single window located in the outside wall gave a view of the courtyard below. After setting aside their weapons, Ascilius and Elerian sat before the fire, soaking up the warmth of the flames.